


Resident evil short stories

by Egyptianmaus



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Drama, Drama & Romance, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Happy Ending, Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-29
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:14:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 30,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22946890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Egyptianmaus/pseuds/Egyptianmaus
Summary: Just a collection of my short stories.
Relationships: Chris Redfield/Reader, Leon S. Kennedy/Reader, Piers Nivans/Reader
Comments: 38
Kudos: 54





	1. The woman next door

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back! Again! And with another one shot? This might actually be a 2 part story depending on how it goes. But nonetheless I got the urge to write and came up with this story. I would have posted it earlier but I had to work lol (I'm actually posting this while at work) so I kinda enjoy doing one shots and if any of you lovely readers have any prompts or ideas you'd like to see let me know! I'll gladly write one!

**Piers Pov**

I’m. Not. Crazy. 

I know I put the car keys on the end table by the couch last night. I distinctly remember getting off late at work--because I found some new leads on Chris’ whereabouts--and I was busy thinking about the newest lead when I put the keys beside the t.v. remote when I sat down. I slapped the floor and let out a string of curses and got back up on my feet. 

I’ve checked every inch of this room from top to bottom: I checked under the table, under the couch--heck! I even checked the bathroom. 

The sound of keys clunking to the floor outside the apartment door made me jump around.

I made my way over in a rush, twisted the lock and swung it open and nearly toppled into the young woman that lives next door. What was her name again? Her eyes bugged out and she stepped back just in time. “Oop--”

“--I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to run into you.” 

“That’s alright. No harm done.” She straightened out her summer dress and sun hat and smiled. I had to do a double take on her outfit, it looks like she stepped out from another time. “Now,” I blinked back up to her face and settled on her red lipstick, “any particular reason why you were trying to barrel into me out in the hall?”

“I, uh, well...keys.”

“Keys? What about keys?” She giggled.

Regaining my senses, I jerked up right and cleared my throat. “I, I mean I lost my keys from last night and I heard--well, thought I heard someone drop some out here and…” She bent back down and picked up her keys and jingled them in front of herself with a wide smile. “Y-yeah...right. They were your keys.”

“Well, I don’t think your keys got up and walked away--well, I sure hope not, that is. Have you tried retracing your steps?”

"Yes, I have.” I nodded my head and was about to turn around when she spoke again.

“Have you tried checking your coat pocket? I always seem to leave mine there, so I made a habit to just always keep them there.” 

“No...I didn’t check my coat pocket. I’m sure I left them on the end table last night.”

She shrugged her shoulders, “Well, things have a strange way of getting back to you eventually, it’s just something that happens in life. But, you could never rush it or force it, it always just comes back on their own time. Good luck with your keys Mr. Nivans.”

“Yeah…” I hid my laugh under a cough. What is she talking about? Guess her oddness doesn’t end with her outfits. “Thanks--” I stiffened when I gazed back up but found the hall empty.

_How long was I standing out here in my thoughts for?_

I brushed it off and closed the door and stared at the wood grain as I thought about the keys. The lady’s words came back to me. I scoffed. They were on the end table last night. I know they were.

I thought that, but it still didn’t stop me from stomping over towards my jacket and shoving my hands into the pockets. I froze when my hand wrapped around something cold and metallic. I yanked it out and opened my hand. My jaw set when my gaze landed on my keys.

“But...I know I put them on the table last night.” I know I did. 

Something else sent alarms off in my head; how did she manage to guess it right on the first try?

I walked back over towards the door and paused with my hand on the doorknob. I locked it last night, I had to unlock it earlier, so that rules out intruders. I laughed at myself.

Intruders? Who breaks into someone's apartment just to move their keys? Maybe I am going crazy.

But I still had some questions I wanted to ask whatever her name is, across the hall. So, I opened the door and took the two small steps to the other side and knocked on the lady’s door. There was no answer. I knocked again, but still no one answered. Odd. She was just here.

“Whatcha doing standing out in the middle of the hall, old sport?” The strained, wheezy voice was followed by a clicking sound beside me. 

My head whirled around and found the owner of the building standing there while he leaned against his walker. “Wh-what?” Did he just call me an old sport? How old is this guy?

“You’re just standing outside the door like your mind was someplace else. Lose something?”

“Actually, I just found something.”

His clouded eyes flickered off my face and over towards the lady’s door and an easy going smile spread up on his mouth. “You know her?”

“What? Who? Her?” I pointed to the door in front of me while the man nodded. “I, uh, not really. I just wanted to ask her a question about something--never mind.”

“She usually goes down to the post office and laundromat on Wednesdays. She won’t be back for a few hours, I’m afraid.”

“Oh, that’s fine. It wasn’t important. Do you happen to know who she is? Like her name?”

“‘Course I know her. She’s been here for a few years now. Uh…” His smile waned and he started to rub his chin. “Her name is, uh...oh sugar dates what is her name again. Mary? Suzanna? It’s on the tip of my tongue.”

My patience was draining by the moment. I should have just kept my mouth shut and stayed in the apartment. I was going to be late for work anyway. “Never mind. I’ll just ask her when I see her next. Have a good day.”

“Oh! You too, old sport. Don’t work too hard, yeah hear me?” 

My head bobbed in a curt nod before I started down the hallway past the man and out the door. With that whirlwind of events behind me, I can focus on finding Chris and getting back to the BSAA. We need him here. It’s not the same without him.

It was a long day of no new leads at work today and my feet were killing me as I started the climb up the outside steps of the apartment building. Just as I swung the door open, someone appeared and nearly tumbled into me. “Good heavens! We really must stop meeting like this,” The woman laughed and placed a gloved hand over her chest.

_Who wears gloves anymore? Least of all in the middle of summer?_

I put my observation on hold and stepped to the side so she could pass. “Sorry, ma’am. Guess it’s just one of those days.”

She thanked me as I held the door wider for her. “You look like you had a rough day at work. Hope it wasn’t so bad?”

“Same old, same old.”

“Things will get better, you’ll see. Well, ta-ta--oops.” Her keys clanged to the ground, cutting her off. “Clumsy me.”

“I’ll get them.” I scooped up the set of keys and handed them back.

“If I keep dropping them I’ll have to buy a string to attach them to me,” she laughed. “Thank you. I have to go though, but have a wonderful day, Mr. Nivans.”

“H-hey! Wait. I’m sorry but I didn’t grab…” But she only waved at me and hurried down the steps with a slight limp to her steps and turned the corner. “...Your name.”

What a peculiar woman, I thought as I turned back towards the door and headed back up to my apartment for the night.

Normally, I can fall asleep on command, but not tonight. No, tonight my mind wanted to think about everything I needed to do for work. Not during the work day, no no...but at five am. 

Just, fucking perfect. I thought as I laid awake in bed, and stared at the clock beside me. 

And that’s when I heard it, the sound of keys clanging on the hardwood floors and the soft sounds of crying. Intrigued, I pulled the blankets back and put on a shirt and headed towards the front door. I paused with my hand on the doorknob debating if I should bother her or just go back to bed. My mind was made up when I could still hear the soft sounds. Sucking in a small breath, I unlocked the deadbolt and eased the door open a crack.

She was on the ground, her dress spilled out around her legs while she covered one hand over her face to try and mute her soft sobbing.

I didn’t move. I let my eyes roll off her shaking shoulders and down to the discarded keys by her side then back over her outfit that she wore from yesterday. When it was obvious she didn't hear me I mustered up the courage to say something.

“Um...are you alright?” 

She shot up and snapped her head around. Her puffy and red eyes widened when they landed on me, but it was hard to really see in the dim light of the hallway. “Oh, I didn’t mean to wake you up. I’m so sorry.” 

“Let me help you--”

“--No no,” She brushed off my attempt to help her to her feet and resumed getting up on her own. 

“What’re you doing out here at this time of night?” I whispered. “Are you hurt?”

“No...I just couldn’t sleep and wanted to go for a walk, but dropped my keys again. I’m so clumsy.” 

I didn’t know what to say. I stared at her face in the shadows and watched as she wiped away the remaining tears in her eyes then flicked them down to the keys at her feet. With a breath, I scooped them up and managed to give her a small smile. “Why don’t you come inside and sit down.”

“No! I, I mean...you must be tired from working all day. I can’t do that.”

“I insist. I can’t sleep either.” She chewed on her bottom lip, making the breath freeze in my chest as I watched her stare from one door to the next. I pulled my door open wider and watched as she lightly smiled, lowered her head and tiptoed past me and into my place. The smell of her lilac perfume filled my nose and made me want to take a deep breath in as she moved past me. I put a lot of emphasis on shutting the door to distract myself and watched her study my place. 

_I don't know why I invited her inside. Christ, I don't even know her name._

Her eyes flicked across from one wall to the next, stopping on photographs of me and my family as she made her trip around. She leaned in to study them closer before pulling back while bobbing her head with a smile and made her way to another part of the room with a slight limp to her step. I noticed it earlier when she walked away yesterday, but thought nothing of it.

“Are you alright? You didn’t hurt your ankle when you tripped, did you?” She paused in her examination of a photo of me on my first day at the BSAA and gave me a tight smile.

“Oh, no, that...that isn’t from just now. Is this you?” She pointed to the photo.

“Yeah, it’s my first day at the BSAA.”

“It’s nice. How do you like your work?”

“It has its moments, but I enjoy it. I like making a difference and the BSAA seemed like the perfect place. Do you want anything to drink?”

She shook her head, “I’m alright, thank you. So,” She lowered herself on the edge of the couch cushion, “what is it you do for the BSAA?”

“Well, I’m part of a team--an S.O.U.”

“S.O.U?”

“Special operative unit. We go into infected zones and clear them out.”

She gasped, “Sounds dangerous. Aren’t you ever afraid?”

I took the seat beside her and shrugged. “Sometimes, but for the most part, I know my team’s got my back.” I handed her her keys. She took them quietly and examined the small flower keychain on them.

“Sounds lovely--to have people who watch your back. Like your family.”

“Like family.” I mumbled to no one

“You seem upset. Is it something I said?”

“No. No it’s nothing.”

“Doesn’t sound like it. Come, you can tell me.”

I took a moment to arrange my thoughts. I really wasn’t supposed to tell anyone outside the BSAA anything about Chris’ missing persons case, but what would the harm be? I’ll just keep his name out of it. “It’s just...these past few months I’ve been searching for my teammate. He’s been missing for six months and it feels like I’ve been running in circles. The heads are just as worried about him as I am, but I can’t help but feel as if they are slowly giving up and just grooming me to be the next leader. The BSAA isn’t the same without him, and it irritates me how easy they give up on finding him.” My hands balled up over my legs. I tried counting to ten to calm myself down, it worked--slowly.

She pursed her lips and looked as if she was deep in thought. “Do you believe you’ll find him?”

“Of course.”

“Then you have nothing to worry about. As long as you don’t give up, there is always hope you’ll find him. Things have a way of coming back to you, you know.”

“Yeah, I know. You told me once.”

“Oh?" She blinked. "Did I? I forgot I guess.”

“But what about you?” She froze in her spot. “Why were you crying--if you want to tell me that is.”

With a deep breath, she exhaled and met my stare head on. There was something about the look in her eyes that made me want to freeze time and live this moment a while longer. There was so much sadness and anger and even a little bit of happiness in her eyes. “It’s a long story. Nothing as interesting or important as you looking for your teammate.”

“Well, I won’t know unless you tell me.” She hesitated. “I won’t laugh or tell a soul, I promise.”

“Things haven’t been going to plan recently, and I’m so tired because of it.”

“What do you mean?”

She paused before speaking, as if deciding whether to tell me or not. I guess she trusted me more than I knew. “I met a man years ago, his name was frank. He was so nice and charming and always made me laugh. I thought I knew who he was and I thought I'd spend the rest of my life with him.” She smiled to herself. “He asked me to go away with him. I was so excited. I wanted to leave with him, but my parents were adamant about me not going. Of course, I was young and didn’t listen to them and wanted to be with him. So, I snuck out and ran off with him. It was nice...for a short while, until I learned everything was just a lie and he left me for someone else. I was too embarrassed and scared to go back home, so I’ve been living here ever since. But sometimes, I stop and wonder how different my life would have been if I only listened to my parents.”

“I’m sorry. He sounds like a piece of shit.” I said venomously. I don’t understand people who get off on using others. What piece of shit does that to someone?

“I guess he was.”

“Why don’t you contact your parents now? They can’t be angry with you anymore--who knows, maybe they miss you.”

“I tried, but they never responded back to me. They hate me.” Tears welled up in the corner of her eyes but she dabbed them away. 

“They don’t hate you. Parents could never hate their children. Maybe it's a misunderstanding.”

“You really think so?”

“Someone told me once that things have a way of coming back to you.” A smile quirked my lips.

“Thank you. You’re very kind. And thank you for talking with me. Sorry about your sleep. You must be very tired.”

“It was no problem at all. I’m glad you dropped your keys so we could have this chat.” 

“You mean it’s a good thing I’m clumsy.”

Our laughter stalled as sunlight spilled through the curtains in the living room and coated us in a nice warm glow, warming and loosening my tired muscles. Of course, when I need to get up I’m tired.

“I should go," she said quietly. "I have things to do and you need to get some sleep if you’re going to find your friend.” She stood up and I followed suit.

“Wait, I’ve been meaning to ask you, what’s your name?”

She flashed me a radiant smile that nearly knocked the floor out from under my feet. “It’s (F.N.). (F.N.) (L.N.).”

“Well, (F.N.) It was a pleasure talking with you.”

“Same here. Let's do it again sometime...if you'd like."

I found myself nodding my head and sat on yes before I could help it.

When she left and the door clicked closed, I stood in the living room staring at the sunrise climbing high in the sky. I let the warmth flood through me and twist around inside. It’s been ages since I’ve felt like this. My alarm clock blared from my bedroom, signaling me to wake up from this dream and get back to reality.

My smile waned and reality took hold once more. I can’t live in a dream world. I have a job to do and uphold. She needs someone who would always be there for her.

Shaking my head, I got ready for work with more vigor than usual. 

I locked my door behind me and smiled over my shoulder towards (F.N.)’s apartment. Maybe in another life I would have walked over, knocked on her door and asked for her number, but this isn’t another life. Instead, I shoved my keys in my pocket and headed down stairs where the old man was trying to collect his mail that he dropped on the floor.

I swooped in and picked it up for him and handed them back. He gawked at me then smiled. “Why thanks, old sport. Eh, these hands aren’t like how they used to be. Creaky and numb now.”

“No problem, sir. Have a nice day.”

“Oh! Did you manage to get in contact with the woman next door? I saw her come in yesterday.”

“Oh, er, yeah." I paused in my step. "I ran into her yesterday. Her name’s (F.N.) (L.N.) by the way.”

His face lit up and his eyes cleared. “That’s her name! Eh, the old brain ain’t how it was either, I guess. She’s a nice lady. Always quiet and keeps to herself.”

“What lady?” Another masculine voice cut in and a man that looks eerily similar to the old man appeared from the office door off by the entrance.

“That lady up in room 122--Miss. (L.N.). I was telling this young man how nice she is.”

The older gentleman looked confused and a little put off but composed his features and leaned down towards the old man. “Oh, yeah, Miss. (L.N.). Yeah I remember her. That was over forty years ago. Terrible accident. Poor thing.” It was as if someone had ripped the rug out from under my feet. “Now dad, we need to get to your doctor’s appointment now or we’ll get stuck in traffic.”

“Wait!” Both men paused in their retreat to the doors and gave me a raised brow. “What do you mean forty years ago and what accident? Are you sure you aren’t mixing her up with someone else?”

“No. I remember her when I was a young boy. Everyone heard about her after her death. It was in the papers and everything. She was suffering from...oh I forget the disease--she had a hard time with motor skills. She’d always drop things and such. Bad vision and the like. She was in the living room when they found her. She must have tripped and hit her head on the coffee table.” He shook his head slowly.

“But I...she was just upstairs. I saw her and your father said he saw her too.” The younger man looked at me as if I grew two heads.

“Young man, my father has dementia. He probably got confused.”

“But then who’s in apartment 122?”

“No one. That room is empty. We get it filled every so often, but for one reason or another the tenants just don’t stay. So, I kept it locked for the past twenty years and use it as storage or such now.”

“That’s impossible. I saw…” I didn’t finish the words, because in truth, I never actually saw her get in that room. But I saw her. I turned on my heels and rushed back up to my floor, ignoring the odd look the men gave me as I went.

My feet pounded across the hall and skidded around the corner until I came to an abrupt stop outside room 122. My heavy breathing filled the silence in the empty hall. My eyes flitted down from the ajar door then to the keys hanging inside the lock. The flower key-chain swang ever so slightly as I neared it. 

With a gentle shove, I pushed open the door and stopped in the door frame. Piles of papers and boxes littered the carpeted floor and over the antique furniture. I let my eyes travel across the room--more like a time capsule. The old clock still chimed on the wood panel wall on the far side and I could see the dust settling high on the large shade of the lamp on the end table by the baby blue couch. 

My feet moved on their own as I examined the apartment. The windows were dusty, but still the sunlight spilled through them and lit up the cozy place. The smell of lilacs hit my nose and made me freeze to the spot. I spun around, but no one was there. That’s when I saw it, the photo on the end table. I stalked up to it, and snatched it up. The world shifted and I was worried I was going to puke.

There, smiling back at me in the black and white photo, was (F.N.)’s face and who I assumed to be were her parents. She looked so happy in the photo--a little younger, but it was definitely her. A crinkling sound came from under my shoe and when I pulled away I spotted the small envelope peeking out from between the couch and the end table. I placed the photo gently back down and scooped up the dusty, yellow paper and turned it over. It was for (F.N.)!

I paused with my finger on the seal, but shook it off and ripped the letter open and skimmed the neat handwriting.

_(F.N.)_

_Your father and I have been searching for you for years but you haven’t contacted us until recently. Please, I beg of you, come back home. We miss you and only want to talk to you._

_All our hearts, Mom and dad._

_So...they did write to her, but she probably didn’t know because the letter fell._

I stared at the letter and read it again and again until my phone beeped and it was a message from work. We found him.

I never thought I'd be angry at hearing those words right now. I wanted so many answers, but I don't know who to ask. Reluctantly, I placed the letter by the photo and gave the room one last look over. The smell of lilacs tickled my nose once again and I could have sworn I felt something brush my cheek. I started for the door and locked it behind me, but before I left I took off the flower keychain and placed it in my pocket for safe keeping. 


	2. The perfect shot

**June 27th, 2013**

In my hands, I hold the greatest thing to ever grace my life. The superb black leather grip, seven frames per second and dual pixel. A canon EOS 70D. The perfect camera. Fifteen months and thirteen days it took me to save up for this beautiful creation to mankind, and I'm holding it in my hands right now.

The bubbles of laughter I shoved down into my stomach leaked out into my walk as I skipped down the sidewalk and towards the park so I could try this bad boy out. This camera will change my life! With the extra pixels and less shutter, I can create works of art that would make even Michael Angelo cry.

I hit a wall--that makes sounds--but that thought didn't strike high on my important list at the moment. No, that spot was taken by the fact said grunting wall knocked my beautiful new camera out of my hands and on the cement!

"My camera!"

"Look out!" A hand snatched me back as I tried to retrieve the camera just as a car honked its horn and ran it over.

"N-no...my camera."

"Ma'am? Are you okay?" It's gone. Fifteen months and thirteen days and five minutes...gone. "Miss?"

The talking wall's low voice snapped me out of my stupor. Boiling lava filled my gut and steam poured from inside. "Do you have any idea what you just did?" I screamed at the man, making him stumble back from me a step. "You broke my camera!"

"You weren't paying attention and was about to walk out on the road. You bumped into me as I tried to stop you--"

"I bumped into you?"

"I was trying to get your attention, but you didn't hear me."

The gull of this man. If I had known, I would have pushed him into oncoming traffic and not my sweet, innocent camera. "So running into me was your next plan?"

"No, but grabbing your arm and pulling you back on the sidewalk before that truck hit you was." His hazel eyes jabbed into my face.

People around us slowed to a stop and gawked at our fight, but none dared to step forward and intervene. Smart people. "I didn't need your help," I growled. "I would have seen the truck before it was too late, and now thanks to you, you broke my brand new camera."

"I just saved your life and you're worried about your stupid camera?"

"That," I stepped dangerously forward and caught a whiff of this man's aftershave--pine trees--not now! "Stupid camera happened to take me fifteen months to save up for, and I had it in my hands for five minutes until you bumped into me."

"I don't have time for this bullshit." He turned to leave, and spat over his shoulder "you can replace the camera, but good luck trying to replace your life." He muttered something that ended with woman and something that unmistakably sounded like a hard B word. That asshole.

"Hey! You!" He stopped in his tracks and tensed his shoulders. I realized, at that moment, another thing about him, he was wearing some kind of military clothing. A logo on his left arm came into view as he cocked back around, the letters BSAA stitched nicely over the patch. His fuming eyes held my own in barely contained rage, making his calm voice all the more creepy.

"What do you want?"

"You owe me a new camera." He didn't say anything--just turned and continued on down the busy sidewalk. "H-hey! Wait! I was serious--"

"And so was I. I don't have time to stand around and listen to some woman scream at me because her camera broke. I got more pressing matters to attend to."

"Will you at least slow down! Christ, you got pogo sticks for legs or something? This isn't a marathon." He breathed out a loud, agitated breath but remained quiet. He surprised me when he actually slowed down. "It took me months to save up for that camera, and you did bump into me. The least you could do is pay me back."

He stopped abruptly and spun around. "A simple thank you, sir for saving my life would be nice."

"Thank you--"

"Your welcome." He smiled and turned back around and kept walking. This time, I didn't bother chasing after him. It took everything in me not to strangle him already.

"Fucking asshole, son of a bitch, stupid military nut job...narcissist." The curses fell like a river from my mouth as I watched his broad back disappear into the growing crowds.

Giving up, I dropped my shoulders and went back to retrieve what was left of my camera from the pavement. My eyes burned but I didn't dare let them fall. Didn't cry when mom went and I'm definitely not crying over some jerk either.

The pieces clattered and clanged together in my arms as I moped towards the only place I could think of that would make me feel better, the park. It was a beautiful summer day.

Perfect for taking pictures. I grumbled to myself.

The fountain in front of me disturbed the large lily pond, making the sound echo to where I sat under the lone tree on this side of the pond. No one came to this spot often. It was my special spot, and it had the best view of the city. My eyes wandered over the broken camera again, even now, after a few hours of calming down, it hurt to look at it. This camera was going to help me build the best portfolio. I would have used it to showcase my website and finally get some traction. I could save up again, but that would take me another year. I was hoping to start my photography career by then. Oh well, I guess. Another delay and another day in my life.

Footsteps rustled behind me--probably just someone walking the trails. I stared out at the stone fountain, its tiers of water rustled in the light warm wind and splashed over the backs of the ducks bobbing for food. The sweet aroma of flowers from the flowerbeds and the fresh cut grass tickled my nose. The rustling from the person behind me got louder and more aggressive. I finally had enough.

"If you're going to pace, can you at least..." my voice shriveled up when I saw those hazel eyes piercing through my skull like a bullet. A flash of shock spread across his face until realization dawned on him.

"You? Again?"

"Who the fuck dug up your corpse?"

"What did you just say?"

"Can't you just leave me alone? You already ruined my morning, can't you let me enjoy my afternoon in peace?"

He straightened up and stomped up beside me. "This is a public place. If you don't like it then you leave."

"I was here first! You can leave."

"I'm not going anywhere. If you don't like it, you can leave at any time." His smug smirk reached his eyes as he settled down on the grass a little ways from me and noticed my gaping mouth.

Is this guy serious?

"Why are you here? This is my spot. I always come here."

"Never seen you here before."

"I've been coming here for over ten years and I don't recall ever seeing you here either."

"You aren't the only one who's had a bad day, yeah know."

"No," I shook my head profusely, "I don't know--nor do I care." I stood up and snatched my purse and began my walk back to my apartment until his voice cut off my retreat.

"You know littering is against the law, right?"

"I know it is!"

He flicked his eyes from me then to my broken, discarded camera still laying in the grass between us then back to me.

"Oh..." I forced the heat in my cheeks to fuck off as I bowed my head and started to pick up the pieces without a word. I could feel his gaze on my face as I haphazardly shoved the metal bits into my purse.

"Why does that camera mean so much to you? Just get a cheaper one."

"This camera was going to change my life. A cheaper one doesn't have the same quality as this one. Not like it matters to you."

"Why was it going to change your life?"

I threw him the hardest look I could muster and stood up. "Why do you care?"

"Just wanted to understand why someone was so hell bent and willing to get hit by a truck just to save a small camera is all."

He didn't seem like he was poking fun at me. It actually looked like he cared. "My mom was a photographer. She went across the globe taking photos of everything; scenery, mountains, cities, war torn cities and everything. She always told me a picture can paint a thousand words," My throat began to tighten. "Her photos shed light on things we only heard about, but seeing them first hand made it just...real. She thought her photos could change the world and people. She died a few years ago while on one of her trips. She was heading to West Africa at that time and found herself traveling around the area until she stopped at an isolated city in Kijuju. They say she was photographing the area when she was exposed to the virus and...well..." I shrugged my shoulders. I wanted to leave, but for some reason I couldn't.

"I'm sorry."

"Doesn't matter. It happened years ago." I shrugged him off. "I wanted to take after her and show my photos to the world--just like she did. And that camera was similar to the one my mom always used. It doesn't matter. Who cares." I blinked the threat of tears away, but the feeling remained.

The man stared at me in silence. He didn't make a move or sound, just stared as if he was deep in thought. "You're really passionate about it."

"I like photos, so what?"

"It's nice. I never met anyone who cared so much about their dream. It's refreshing."

I quirked up a brow. "You're not making fun of me, are you?"

He shook his head and let his eyes travel across the pond and birds. The tension in his face I saw earlier was nowhere to be found. He almost looked like a completely different person with that half smile on his face. "I'm not. I promise. I can relate to the feeling of having that perfect shot right in front of you, it's like the world melts away and there's nothing else but you and that lens in that moment. It's perfect. I think it's perfect because you never know when it's going to happen. One moment nothing, then the next--bam. Right in front of you, and if you blink it disappears forever."

I don't know when I sat back down, but I somehow found myself plopped in the grass beside this man listening to him talk. "I know that feeling," I breathed. "The rush of being out there in the open, unprotected and right in the middle of all that action and just finding that one frame--that one perciset moment in all of it. It's like a constant tightening and release."

I saw him smile out of the corner of my eye as he shook his head. "I love that feeling."

A long stretch of silence fell between us, but it wasn't uncomfortable in the slightest. It was peaceful, like two long lost friends meeting again for the first time. I've never felt this connected to anyone since my mother. She understood me like no one else. It's nice to have someone to talk to and be able to understand how you feel.

"I'm sorry about your camera. I'll pay you back." The sound of his voice came so suddenly it made me jump out of my thoughts.

"You don't have to do that."

"But earlier you said--"

"Earlier I was angry."

"And?" He turned his head. "So you don't think I'm a fucking asshole or stupid military narcissist anymore?"

"What?" My earlier rant came back to me and this time I couldn't stop the heat from touching my neck and cheeks. "Oh...that. I didn't think you heard that. I'm sorry." I was expecting him to get angry, but I was surprised when he just smiled and shook his head.

"It's okay. It kinda made me laugh after. But seriously, I'll repay you for the camera." I was already shaking my head before he finished his sentence.

"And I was serious about not having to worry about it, honestly. I'll just save up for a new one." He was about to fight me on it, but I shook my head again and laughed. The silence stretched on between us again, this time I broke it. "Do you believe in coincidences?"

"Coincidences?"

"Yeah, like maybe I wasn't supposed to get the camera today. Maybe all I needed was more time to think and decide before I bought one."

"No I don't believe in coincidences."

"Really? You're so dull."

He pressed a hand over his chest and winced. "You really know how to compliment a guy. Did I ever tell you you're the most upbeat person I've ever met? Cause seriously? You're too nice for your own good."

I couldn't help but roll my eyes and laugh. "I know, it's a crime really. Like, it's hard being this positive all the time."

"How do you do it?"

"Alcohol mostly." He choked out a laugh, the sight made my insides turn and relax. When all was said and done, I heaved myself up on my feet and nodded his way. "Well, I guess I should get back home. I got some saving to catch up on."

He jumped to his feet and stood tall over me and held out his hand. With a smile, I took it in my own and gave it a shake. He squeezed mine back. His coarse hand engulfed my own, his warmth spread through my hand and tingled all the way down to my toes and the sight of his easy going smile made me want to melt. "We should do this again sometime--not the whole breaking your camera thing I just, I just meant, like, meeting here and talking or something." He snapped his mouth shut with a cough.

"I'd like that," I smiled up at him and took the phone he offered me and put my name and number in it before handing it back to him. "It was nice meeting you."

"Yeah, it was. The next time I'm free I'll give you a call. Watch out for trucks."

"I will. Keep searching for crazy women to save."

"Nah, you're one in a million." He winked.

I had to leave before I said or did something I would regret for the rest of my life. With a final goodbye, we parted ways. Halfway down the trail back home I got a text from an unknown number. Thanks for the wild day.Ever been to the gallery on the East side of town? I think you'd like it there--Piers Nivans.

Piers...cute name. I messaged him back and pocketed my phone and tried so very hard to wipe the stupid smile off my face.

I waited for him to message me back for weeks, but I didn't get anything except one other text the day after we met. He didn't respond to my reply, he didn't even read it.

I don't believe in coincidences, I believe in making my own destiny. I thought of that when I saw you walking out of that store holding your camera and smiling ear to ear. I knew I had to meet you, so, I came up with a plan to bump into you, but I wasn't expecting to break your camera in the process. I lied when I said I was sorry for breaking your it, because...really? I'm not. I'm glad I broke it, because of that I got to spend the afternoon with the most beautiful woman I've ever met.


	3. the woman next door (part 2)

The gasp of pain escaped my lips louder than I expected when Chris settled me down by the escape pods. It was a battle to keep my body still as the virus ate away more and more of what remained of me. It clawed through mind, tearing into what remained of it. It slipped from my fingers with every breath I managed to suck in. Further and further from my grasp it slipped. But then, on my sleeve, I caught sight of the BSAA logo on my shoulder. Blood stained the intricate stitching and letters.

The sound of something metallic clanking against the ground made me snap my head up, but nothing was there.

“Come on!” Chris appeared before me with his hand outstretched. I sucked in another breath before snagging my hand in his and wretched myself back up. “Got it! Here we go, Piers, we’re gettin’ out of here!”

The small, flower key-chain weighed my breast pocket down as we limped towards the escape pod. Her gentle smile and voice filled my head, and cleared my mind.

I ripped away from Chris. His dumbfounded expression morphed into confusion as he realized there was something in his hand, my BSAA patch.

“Piers--” I shoved him into the pod, making him fall flat on his back and shut the door as he scrambled to his feet. “No, don’t do this!” His eyes pleaded with me, but I made up my mind. I reached over and pulled the lever. “Open the door! Goddamn it, listen to me! We can still both get outta here! There’s still time!” My hand hovered over the button for a fraction of a moment. “What are you doing? No, Piers, don’t! You can still make it out!” At last, my mind went quiet and I pushed the button. “Goddamn it, Piers!” Fear gripped Chris’ face as he realized what I had done. “Open the goddamn door--that’s an order!” I smiled up at him and reassured him with a nod.

_For the BSAA...for the future...they need you._

“PIERS!” His voice faded under the sound of the pod launching off and out of sight.

All around me the lab crumbled and groaned. Water flooded in from everywhere, soaking me from the waist down, but I wasn’t scared. I’m glad I got to save him one last time.

My smile faded when I caught the sweet smell of lilacs in the air. I could hear metallic clanging to the ground over the roar around me, but there was no way…I flung around, but no one was there. Disappointment gnawed at my chest.

_It’s my mind...it’s not all there...anymore._

My legs gave out and I crashed to the floor, spraying water over myself, but I didn’t care anymore. It hurts to breathe...it hurts to be alive.

_Just hurry up and die already._

My hand reached up and pulled the key-chain out from my pocket. I studied the small purple flower and let my smile ease back over my mouth as my eyes closed.

_I hope you found peace._

“We really ‘ought to stop meeting like this,” her whispery voice carried over the destruction around me effortlessly.

The pain eased away until not a trace was left, and my mind cleared. I opened my eyes and smiled up at (F.N.). “You’re here.”

“I am.”

“Why?”

Her usual easy going smile curved her lips as she knelt down in front of me and let one of her hands graze my face. I don’t know what I was expecting, but I still shuttered when she touched me. It was warm and soft. “I guess things have a strange way of getting back to you.”

Strange is one word for it.”

“You found your captain--and saved him, I see.”

“It was for the BSAA...for the future.”

Her smile wavered, but still shined through her eyes. “I know. I’ve been watching and listening.”

“Why? I don’t mean it in a _bad_ way, just...why?”

Her smile returned full force and she extended her hand for me to take. “We can discuss that as we talk. Come on.”

“I can’t stand up anymore. The virus…” My voice quieted as my gaze landed on my intact arm.

“You’re fine. Now, come on! I have a lot to show you.” She said excitedly.

Carefully, I placed my feet under me and stood to my full height without a problem and followed her.

Metal grates and cold water faded into grass and crisp breezes. Budding flowers looked as if they were about to burst as I walked past, their vibrant colors peeked out from under their green cocoon of leaves. I paused over a rustic, cast-iron fence and gate and turned to look at (F.N.).

She threw it open without breaking her stride and gestured for me to follow after her. I shot around, but there was no lab or escape pods or rising water behind me, instead, a wide open field dotted with trees and fences laid out before me. A crisp spring breeze licked at my face as I took in the sight. I shook my head and opened my mouth, but no words came out.

I turned back around, but (F.N.) had disappeared around the bushes and flowers. Picking up my pace, I nearly smacked into her as I tried to avoid a flowerbed. “Do you like it?” She asked.

“Where are we?”

“My garden.”

My eyes flitted over the many different flowers and shrubs and stopped as I spotted the skinny trees with purple flowers. The familiar sweet smell of (F.N.) hit my nose when a gentle breeze blew the scent of the flowers towards me.

“They’re my favorite.” I jumped when her voice came from beside me. “Lilacs. They don’t last very long, but when they bloom they’re beautiful and leave a lasting mark.”

“Am I dead?” I at last found my voice.

“Yes and no.”

I stared at her lax face. “How can it be both? Which is it?”

“Both.”

“You’re not making any sense. You can’t be dead...but not dead at the same time.”

“When a caterpillar changes into a butterfly does it die?”

“I, well, no?”

She nodded and took a flower in her hand and took a whiff and hummed with satisfaction. “You’re right...and wrong. A part of it does die--it’s old self, but it doesn’t stay dead. It only shed its shell and changed into a butterfly. We do it all the time, when we’re alive. We grow and shed our old beliefs or ways and change into a different person.” She paused. “You died down in the lab, Piers, but you aren’t dead. The part of you that you left behind will always be remembered in the hearts of those who knew you.”

“But what about now? Where are we? What am I doing here?” Nothing was making any sense! “Is this heaven?”

“I can see you’re upset--”

“Upset?” I yelled. “I don’t know where I am!”

“Come here,” she tapped on my arm and motioned for me to follow her through the garden. “It’ll make sense eventually. I promise.”

Still in a daze, I followed her compliantly. The crisp air warmed and the sounds of bugs chirping sang out around me. The grass under my feet turned into a stone cobble path that winded and turned until it stopped at the base of a set of porch steps.

My gaze snapped up and I stumbled to a stop when I laid eyes on the unfinished farm house. I blinked again and noticed (F.N.) already standing on the top step regarding me silently with a lopsided smile on her lips. “This your house?”

“Mhmm.”

My eyes flickered from the skeletal walls, piles of lumber and exposed piping. “You building it yourself?”

She laughed, “Oh! Of course not.”

I peeked behind her expecting to see some other person doing the building, but it was just the two of us. Did they even need help building when they’re dead? “Who’s helping you?”

“Someone very special.”

“Where are they?”

She shrugged her shoulders and let her hand brush down the beam beside her. “Oh, they should be here soon. It just depends on them, I guess.”

I hated her vagueness! It was driving me crazy. Since I’ve been here, I haven’t been given one straight answer. My anger dissipated as quickly as it came and I stared at the house one more time. A strange sensation filled me the longer I stared. “Have I been here before?”

As usual, instead of answering me, she shrugged her shoulders and started towards the front door.

_It was impossible! I’ve never been here before, it’s just not possible._

I shut the wooden door behind me and took in the mess. Construction is going on everywhere. Most of the house was just the framing, but some areas had the walls fully done or some furniture was placed inside already.

“This is the parlor. And over here,” she started walking ahead and through an open door frame, “is the grand dining room.” Pride radiated off of her as she spun around the space and started naming off where everything was going to go.

The windows were installed on the left side and curtains hung over them. In the center a large dark oak table sat surrounded by six matching chairs, but nothing else. My eyes caught the room behind her, the kitchen I assumed. I started for it.

It wasn’t a big or marvelous kitchen, but I could tell from the layout it was made with care and with someone in mind. I landed on the sink and stopped.

_The sink was out there to overlook the creek she loved so much…_

I reeled back into a counter at the sudden thought and shook it off. I blinked from the sink and then (F.N.), but she didn’t say a word. I found myself hesitating towards the sink. The sunlight poured through the window, and just as I stopped in front of it I could see the creek peeking through the hardwoods. The soft hum of the flowing water drifted across the way and over to me. I shook my head. It was impossible. I snapped around. “The creek…”

(F.N.) moved closer to the doorway and folded her hands in front of her, a serious expression pinched her eyebrows together. “The living room is over here,” and disappeared through the doorway.

I tried to stop my hands from shaking as I followed her through the door and into the dimmer living room. The framing was finished and someone already put floral wallpaper up. The stone fireplace was the centerpiece, and the first thing I noticed when I entered the room. An old hunting rifle was mounted over it. “My hunting rifle.” I smiled and took it in my hands and let them travel down the warn wooden stock. “Still looks the same. Man, I used to love hunting…” I froze then shot around. (F.N.) sat quietly on the lone couch in the room. _When did that get there?_ “What’s going on? What is this? I’ve never owned a hunting rifle like this.”

“Yes, you did.”

“No, I didn’t.” My jaw set and my hands wrapped tighter around the gun. “Who are you? What is all this?”

“Well...that’s a hard question to answer.”

“Don’t give me that B.S. Who. Are. You?”

She went silent and played with the hem of her dress, until she finally said, “I’m (F.N.), but I was also Rosie, Valarie, Quinna...I was Rosie when we built this house. You remember?”

I leaned forward and fixed my jaw. “What are you talking about? We built this house? Rosie?”

She nodded, “Yes, I was Rosie Evans and you were Grant Evans--my husband.”

The ground fell away under me and I was thrown around like a rag-doll. I grabbed the edge of the fireplace and shook my head profoundly. “N-no…” A woman with black hair and grey eyes smiled in my mind. Her thin frame stood by the kitchen sink, swaying side to side as she hummed a tune to herself. “...Rosie.”

Tears pricked the corner of her eyes as she nodded.

The room shifted, and more things appeared: Furniture, rug, personal possessions, photos of blurry faces appeared on the walls, they cleared and I could see Rosie smiling up at a young man holding a hunting rifle in one hand and his other wrapped tightly around her waist. His eyes crinkled from the large smile on his face--my face.

“We married soon after you returned from the war, and we found this piece of land…”

“And I built us this house--by the creek you loved.” Memories flooded my head. It felt foreign and invasive at first, but the less I fought them, the more personal they began to feel. “We lived before...together.”

Her smile finally returned and a stray tear dipped down her cheek. “Many lives.”

I couldn’t take it. I shot up and stormed through the furnished kitchen that smelt like home, and through the dining room where we always sat down to eat, and mounted the stairs to the second floor. I knew the master bedroom was through the door to my right and the spare bedroom was the first door to my left. The extra bathroom is right across from it. I pushed myself down the hall and quickly brushed over the family photos we hung together until I stopped just outside the last door. My chest tightened.

“We were trying for children for a few years,” I didn’t react when she placed a hand on my shoulder. “When we found out I was expecting, we were so excited. You started making the baby’s room almost right away. You were so happy.” She paused to compose herself. “It was a difficult birth. The doctor was worried about me and had to force you to leave the room.”

“You died in my arms...in that master bedroom a half hour later.”

She breezed past me to examine the baby’s crib. The soft cream walls were so warm and inviting. The rocking chair I made for her was in the corner with the blanket she knitted hanging over the back.

“He was such a beautiful baby. So chubby and curious.” Her nose wrinkled and her giggles fell from her lips. “You raised that boy all on your own...in this house.”

More memories of a young boy filled my mind. His grey eyes and tousled brown hair and wide toothy smile made my heart clench. “I did, didn’t I?” My smile dimmed when I got a better view of the boy and something clicked. “Finn?” The rookie’s face came to mind like a flash.

“Yes, but he wasn’t called Finn then.”

“Ryan. I named him after my...friend--Chris!” I gasped. “Chris and I were in the war together! He died though. Are you saying we all lived together...before?”

She held herself and nodded.

My smile returned. “Heh, Finn was our son?”

“In that life, yes.”

“What about your last life? Did we meet?”

Her eyes dulled and her shoulders sagged. “You were my childhood friend. You went into the army soon after I left with Frank. You never came back after the war.” She straightened up. “I want to show you one last thing.”

The sound of the running water grew louder as we weaved through the hardwoods until I spotted the creek just ahead. The beautiful farmhouse stood tall and silent behind us as we paused by the water’s edge.

“This was my favourite spot when we were kids. After I died and our son married and moved on and you grew too old to look after the place, you sold it to a young couple. Their names were--”

“Francine and Steven McNeil, my parents.” Another wave of memories--this time from another life, flooded my head. “You lived down the road from us and we’d play in the creek as kids. I remember the day I asked you to meet me down here so I could tell you how I felt, but then you told me you were thinking of leaving with Frank. You looked so happy...so I kept my feelings a secret and let you go with him while I enlisted in the army.” It was amazing how everything clicked together easier now. It was like being in a cloud then coming back down to earth in a flash.

“The longer you’re here, the more you begin to remember.” She said as if reading my thoughts.

“So,” I glanced around the area, enjoying the natural rhythm of nature, “what happens now?”

“A few things could happen.”

“Like?”

She smiled. “We could stay here.”

“Or?”

She slid her shoes off and stepped into the creek and squeaked as the cold water licked her skin. She turned to face me, a knowing smile grazing her plump lips. “Or we can start another life.”

The water splashed over me as I joined her in the creek. I didn’t hesitate when I brought her close and planted my mouth over her’s. Dozens of memories and lives flashed before me, all with her and my friends I care about. But, it was the thought of making more memories and living more lives that made me happiest. I pulled away breathlessly. I want to remember the way our bodies fit together, like a puzzle piece. “Let’s do it again.”


	4. The language of flowers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So! this is my first time doing a chris fic. this will be interesting lol. i feel like it's not my strongest one, but I'm working on getting better! I'll probably do more with chris x reader fics in the future so sorry for the bumpy start lol

It was time I kept to my new year's resolutions...even if I started them halfway through the year.

_At least I'm starting my resolution in the same year this time. That's progress, right?_

The wooden bench underneath my running shoes squeaked as I did up my laces. My ponytail whacked me in the nose, making it tingle as I stood back up and fixed my tank top and running pants. The couch called to me, whispering sweet sounds of movies and relaxation, but I held firm!

This is the year I get into shape.

With the mental response of a depressed sloth, I shoved my headphones into my ears and ripped the door open and stepped outside into the bright light. _Day one of jogging...three-hundred and sixty-four to go. Hurrah!_

The park trails were long and twisted all through the side of the city. The gentle summer breeze blew through the maple trees above my head, singing me their song of nature, and cooling me down as I kept up the pace. If I was going to torture myself, I might as well do it with a nice view.

The mountains in the distance loomed over the treetops as I turned the corner on the dirt trail and started for the park's center up ahead. The late morning sun peeked through the leaves and shined down around me.

Groups of people milled about or sat on the grass; their laughter reached over my music as I passed by them. The sight of couples smiling and enjoying each other's company sent a pang through my chest. The stolen kisses and hand-holding was the nail in the coffin for me. Now I remember why I hated coming to the park.

I slowed to a walk as I stared at a young couple off to my left. They looked so happy in each other's company; she giggled as he leaned down and pecked her on her cheek. The pain in my chest twisted, and I had to look away before tears threatened to fall.

It's been months since _he_ left me and our five-year relationship for another woman. His excuse of "I just fell out of love with us" rattled around my head and banged down into the deepest part of my chest where it sat and began to rot. For months I asked myself _why wasn't I enough?_ But no one could give me an answer—least of all him.

I scoffed.

_Five years I wasted on someone who couldn't give me the decency of a response as to why he chose my best friend, of twelve years, over me._

_What did she have that I didn't?_

My muscles screamed at me to slow down. The sweat running down my spine stuck to my clothes.

_It was the body and looks, wasn't it? She was the pretty one and funny one. She had it all; the cool job, hobbies, lifestyle—_

The large brown shape jumped at me with a mouth full of frothing teeth and a loud bark. The scream ripped out of me when my foot caught on my untied laces, sending me crashing backwards.

The dog's black eyes zeroed in on me, the white to its teeth glinted with saliva. Memories of my childhood flooded me, and terror seized my breath. The jagged scars on my arm burned as if reliving the day my uncle's dog bit into it. Blood spilled across my eyes as the moment replayed over and over again. I latched onto the nearest object and clutched my eyes closed, waiting for the bite to come.

"Bruce! Stop barking!" The voice said. "I'm so sorry. He's still jumpy around people, but he won't bite."

"You should pay more attention to your dog; he nearly scared her half to death." I cracked open my eyes as the other masculine voice reverberated down the side of my body.

Slowly, I cocked my head around, nearly smacking into a man's face. "AH!" I jumped and fell flat on the ground.

The dog stopped barking, ran behind his owner and continued to growl at me from behind the guy's legs. The dog's owner and the man on the bench both stared at me; the man with the dog looked annoyed and confused, while the man on the bench looked like he wanted to crack a smile, but didn't. Instead, he jumped to his feet and offered me a hand.

"Let me give you a hand," he said and helped me to my feet.

My muscles cried out in protest, and a groan escaped my lips as I picked myself—and my pride—off the ground. "Thanks." I gave him a weak smile.

During the incident, the man and his dog vanished, leaving me alone with the stranger. _What a jerk!_

"You're a little jumpy. You sure you're OK?"

Dusting off my rear and fixing my tank-top and hair, I gave him another glance. "I'm fine, really."

I finally got a good look at the man. He was tall. Cranking my neck back to meet his stare, I would place his age somewhere in his thirties, but he appeared older with the bags under his eyes. But his eyes were gentle and soft, a contrast to his toned body and angular face. He was a rugged-looking guy, maybe some kind of gym buff? Or outdoor's man? But it was still his eyes that kept me staring longer than I should have.

"Uh...sorry for landing in your lap and screaming in, uh, in your face."

_Great job, idiot._

His laugh drew me out of my thoughts; the sound was so deep and velvety, it slipped down from my head and into my abdomen, leaving a hot trail as it did. "It's no problem. Not the first thing I thought of happening to me while sitting at the park, but worse things could have happened." He ended with a smile that crinkled the corner of his eyes and made me want to melt where I stood.

The sounds of the people and nature split between us as the man and I stood silently. "Well, I should...be on my way. Thank you again." Turning on my heels, I came to an abrupt stop when his voice sounded.

"Wait! You dropped your headphones."

"Oh?"

He bent down to retrieve my discarded headphones off the trail and handed them back to me. As soon as our fingers brushed against each other, it felt as if an electrical current passed between us. When our eyes locked, I could have mistaken it, but it looked as if he had felt it too. Odd.

"Thank you again—"

"—Chris."

I stared at the hand he offered me, it engulfed mine, and the callouses on his palms, though rough, felt nice. "(F.N)."

His face brightened up, and for a moment, the bags under his eyes lightened, making Chris appear younger. "Have a nice day (F.N)."

The way he spoke my name made me smile like a teenage girl. "You too."

I had to leave before I said or did anything else that would make me regret stepping outside for the rest of my life. Turning around, I left Chris by the bench and continued down the trail. It took me a while to get back into my jog's rhythm with Chris taking up most of my thoughts for the next twenty minutes. I was a mess. I am supposed to be a mature adult, but at the sight of one man with a smile, I turned into a blubbering teenager all over.

_Congratulations (F.N.), you completely fucked up your first male encounter in months. Time to break out the wine and crawl back to my spot on the couch and cry for the next few years, or until I buy twelve cats and start screaming at everyone. A little from column A and a little from column B, perhaps._

Vehicles lined up all down the sidewalks, and the sounds of people came up ahead. I caught myself on the uneven ground, hopped over the cracked sidewalk, and started easing my way down the street shops. The striped awnings hung overhead while their signs dangled in the light breeze. Menu boards stood outside the cafe doors, their _welcome_ displays in the windows made my mouth water as I skirted by.

It's been ages since I found myself down in this part of the city. The last time I could recall would be when Patrick and I were first dating. It used to be one of my favourite places to visit. But with the shit show that went down, this place quickly became a no-go zone, and I remembered why as soon as all the memories started to flood back to me.

The same old candle shop owned by a sweet couple was still in the same place I remembered it was. My chest tingled as I caught a whiff of vanilla and pumpkin spice in the air. All the times I dragged Wendy out here just to look at the candles soured my mood, again. I hated how my fondest memories have now turned into my most hated and painful. _Why couldn't it just go back to how things were? Why did he cheat on me? Why? Why? WHY?_

Not even the fresh smells of yeasty bread from the hundred-year-old bakery lifted my spirits. The white layered wedding cake in the display window made my breath shake. It was like this place turned against me; everywhere I turned, memories rushed me, and mocking jabs struck me to the core.

It wasn't until the fresh and exotic smells from a flower shop pulled me out of my thoughts.

"Good morning," The woman in the flower shop said with a smile as I paused in front of her store.

I blinked from the sidewalk then back to the woman. "'Morning."

Bright colours and festive displays popped out from her small shop. Everywhere my eyes landed was like looking at an art gallery. The way she displayed each flower and partnered them up was a work of art in of itself. I couldn't resist stopping to take a peek.

The first thing my nose picked up was the smell of jasmine, and as predicted, I found them by the displays near the back—not where I would personally put them; they deserve to be up at the front for the world to see. The soft petals nearly glowed with how white they were, and the yellow blotch in their centers made it seem like a piece of sunlight dripped down and kissed them. Not one flower was out of place, and their green leaves shined with fresh water.

_This shop owner takes excellent care of all her flowers. And she paired them with a clematis vine!_

It was a Julka clematis. The vibrance of the violet leaves made them appear fake, and the deep purple mixture on the inside of the leaves reminded me of jugs of sangria under beach umbrellas on a hot day. The combination of their colours and smells tingled my nose. I took a breath in and closed my eyes as I let the scents wash over me.

"Funny running into you here." The voice appeared so suddenly that I choked on my breath and started to cough. "Op- sorry!"

I waved Chris off and tried to tell him I was fine, but my coughing kept cutting me off. "Are you following me?" I finally managed to choke out with tears still in my eyes.

His smile quickly changed, and he stood straight up. "No. I just wanted to walk the street...haven't been able to in a long time..." His voice trailed off, and his eyes became distant.

I felt awful immediately. I didn't mean to say that to him. He kind of just sprang up on me and scared me. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say that, I was just _startled_ is all." I smiled. "So, er...you like flowers?"

Like a switch, the distance he put between us was quickly closed, and his cute lopsided smile returned as he cleared his throat and shifted his weight. "I like to stop and enjoy them when I can. These ones your favourite?" He said, pointing to the clematis.

"One of them. It's a Julka clematis, and the one beside it is a jasmine plant."

One of his thick eyebrows arched. "You know your flowers."

My fingers brushed the delicate petals, feeling their softness under my touch. "Yep. I went to school for botany. I always had a love for flowers and plants, ever since I was little."

"No kidding," the shock in his voice melted into amusement. "Did you enjoy it?"

I nodded, "Very much. There's just so much to learn from plants and flowers—like how each one means something different in the language of flowers."

The corner of his smile cracked up higher, but it wasn't a teasing smirk, but a genuine one. "Language of flowers, eh? Like...?"

I reached over and plucked up a bluebell and presented it to him. "Like this bluebell represents kindness while this one," I held up a white tulip, "means passion."

"Every flower represents something different?"

"Even the colour can change its meaning."

He scratched his chin and flicked his gaze around the shop, carefully examining every flower until settling on a deep red carnation. He plucked it up and handed it to me. "What about this one?"

My grin lifted as I accepted the flower and gave it a whiff. "It's a carnation. It represents a declaration of love."

He froze for a moment while a boyish smile formed on his lips, the action making him appear younger. "Oh."

I couldn't stop my smile from spreading to my eyes. My cheeks hurt, but I didn't care. It was something else standing there watching this man scanning every flower with the enthusiasm of a detective looking over his case files. Every twitch of his eyebrow and tug of his lips made me want to laugh. I held my chuckle behind a cough as he plucked up another flower. It was a begonia.

"That one symbolizes gratitude or respect, but it is also a symbol of caution and warning about future misfortunes or new situations."

"Good to know." He put it back down and seemed content to search for another flower.

Everything about him intrigued me. For starters, he was a big guy—physically—he was well-toned and seemed to take good care of himself. It was a sight to see him inside this small flower shop. Perhaps he was a trainer? I doubt he would be a desk-job kinda guy...maybe he competes in some athletic competitions? _Lord knows he's got the muscles and physic for it._

I let my eyes wander over his back and shoulders, and felt my fingers itching to drag along them. I shook myself and patted over to him. "So, Chirs...what do you do for a living?"

He wiped off his hands and started down the aisle. "I work with the BSAA. It's a Bioterrorism security assessment alliance organization."

_I've heard of them. Somehow, I can see him working for a job like that._

"I've heard of them before. It must be dangerous work."

He nodded, "It can be. But I don't see myself doing anything different. I want to put an end to these Biowars. Too many people—innocent people—have suffered because of them." He plucked up a magnolia.

_Nobility. How ironic._

"Enough about that," he said and turned to me. "What about you? You love flowers...and what else?"

It took me a moment to come up with something. As soon as his eyes flicked to me, all my thoughts jumbled up. "Well...I like, I like to go on hikes and...forage."

"Forage?" Amusement lit up his face. "I haven't heard of that one before. What do you forage for?"

My cheeks burned, but I used some flowers to hide my embarrassment. "I take hikes up through the mountains and search for flowers and mushrooms. It's a newer hobby—mushroom foraging, I mean. I use the flowers and press them in books and make things out of them." I never realized how much my life revolved around flowers. "Guess everything I do does just revolve around flowers, huh?" My awkward laugh died off as I reached over to grab a flower only to freeze when Chris' hand brushed over mine.

His fingers left a hot trail over my knuckles as he pulled away with a cough. "Oop—"

It was too late to look away. Our eyes locked, and I could feel my face flushing. I wanted to laugh and yell at myself at the same time. Complain about my immaturity, but also laugh at it. It was so refreshing to feel these feelings again.

_I never felt this way when I looked at Patrick—_

The sudden realization that this was the first time I felt like this with a man made the floor beneath me crack away. No, I was sure I had felt this way with him before. I racked through years of memories searching for that feeling—that _click_ —but came back with nothing. I adored Patrick, but his touch never made me want to collapse to the ground, laugh, jump around and smile all at once. _Never._ Looking at Chris' eyes made me feel like I've known him all my life.

_You're crazy._

_Maybe I was—I had to be...right? How can I feel like this after meeting him an hour ago?_

Like the clocktower chiming midnight for Cinderella, so to did a chime cut between us, shaking me out of my fairytale world and back to reality.

Chris pulled himself back and dug through his pocket and pulled out his phone. A wince squeezed the corner of his eyes as he looked to the screen. "I'm sorry. My work needs me. It was nice talking to you (F.N.)."

"Wait!" I don't know what possessed me to reach out and speak; it was as if my body was on autopilot. But the thought of him leaving settled over my flushed face like ice. "Could I...could I get your number? If you know...wanna hang out sometime or just talk or whatever."

_Just stop talking!_

Chris paused in his steps and flicked his eyes to my hand, resting on his forearm. I quickly pulled it away and shoved it to my side and watched as he blinked at me...and blinked again. I was just about to open my mouth and tell him to forget I ever opened up my stupid mouth, turn around and crawl back home in embarrassment, but stopped when a smile cracked over his face. He pulled out his phone and handed it to me. "Sure! I'll let you know when I get a free moment from work."

I stood there, holding his phone like an idiot and stared at him. It took me a moment to realize what he had said. "Oh! Sure...no problem. I know your work must be pretty busy, and you must be tired, haha..." _Just type in the goddamn number and shut your mouth._

Handing him back his phone, he spared me one last smile. "See ya around (F.N.)," and waved goodbye and disappeared out into the street.

My heart pounded in my ears, and my cheeks were still burning.

_I just did that. Oh, my God!_

_Fuck workout progress..._ _that_ _was progress I needed._

As much as I detested jogging, I did start to see some improvements after the first week. Although, I can only owe my dedication to going outside every day to that little voice in the back of my head. _Maybe he'll be at the park today?_

I know it was pathetic, but I still couldn't ignore those thoughts—and believe me, I tried. But my hope started to dwindle after the first week and with no response from Chris. Doubt settled in like a plague. Maybe he didn't want to give me his number but felt bad for saying no to my face.

_He seemed off at the end of our conversation...like he was far off in thought. Maybe it was true. I was too weird and pushy._

_I should have just kept my mouth shut, my eyes down and kept jogging. There was no way what I felt was real—and I highly doubt he felt the same way._

I was just finishing zipping up my jogging jacket when I heard my phone going off. I thought about ignoring it, but then a sad, desperate thought crossed my mind. _What if it was Chris?_

I yanked out my phone and pressed it to my ear. "Hello?" I said hopefully.

"Hello," replied the distinctively feminine voice. My shoulders dropped. "Is this (F.N.)?"

"Uh...yes?"

"This is Maria from Beautiful Bouquet flower shop. I'm calling to let you know your order is ready for pick up."

"My order? I didn't order anything, sorry. You must have the wrong number."

The woman's cheery voice dimmed only slightly. "You placed an order a few days ago. The young man said you'd be picking it up when they were ready."

I perked up but tried not to get ahead of myself. "A young man?" Could she mean Chris? "Oh? Oh! Yes...right."

"Would today be alright for you to pick them up?" Amusement bled through her tone.

I nodded my head even though I knew she couldn't see me. "Oh, s-sure! Is right now fine?"

"Perfect! I'll see you soon. Have a wonderful day!" The phone clicked, and the fluttering in my stomach started.

My mind was a mess; I didn't know where to start or finish. I spun around and yanked the door open and started for the shop. When I arrived, I was out of breath and sucking in a lungful of air to try and compose myself. If I weren't so focused on why I was there, I would have patted myself on the back for getting there so quickly. Taking in another few breaths, and slicking back my hair into place, I fixed my jacket and gently pulled the door open and stepped inside.

The exotic smells and sights of the flowers didn't slow me down this time. I hurried over towards the counter, a little cautious, but excited. The woman at the counter was arranging some flowers, but she paused to smile when she saw me approaching.

"Hi! You must be (F.N.)?" I could only nod, making her smile brighten. "Awesome, I have your flowers right over here. They're already paid for."

My eyes followed her every move as she floated to the side of the counter and reached down and pulled up a beautiful planter full of colourful flowers and settled them on the counter in front of me. My eyes locked on the gloxinia and camellia flowers, their beautiful dusty pinks, deep reds and plum purples and intricate petals mesmerized me to the spot. I couldn't stop a smile curving the corner of my lips.

_Gloxinia...love at first sight. Camellia flowers—destiny._

The sweet aroma wafted into my nose as I leaned down to trace some of the striped tipped flowers. It was like fresh mint and...coconut? I breathed in the smell and imagined the tropical lands and hot sun mixing in with the sweet coconut smell.

The small envelope sat perched on a holder in the flowers. My fingers plucked it up and turned it over. It was a handwritten card.

_I've seen a lot in my life, a lot of unbelievable things that I can't forget but wish I could. Love was one of those unbelievable things; how could you love someone when you just met them? It was impossible. But then you fell onto my lap and looked at me for the first time, and all I could think of was, "oh, that's how." There is a lot of things I wish to forget; meeting you is not one of those things, and I wish to replay it over and over again. If our meeting wasn't destiny, then I don't know what it is._

_-Chris_


	5. Next stop...you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going through my google docs when I found this half finished one shot there. So I decided to finish it up and post it! its not a long fic...but its something in the mean time I guess lol. Soo here it is, my fifth one shot! I think I will do another one soon...maybe a Chris one. I hope you all like it!

My aching feet dragged over the threshold and inside the bus and plopped down on the in my usual spot, making it jump as I settled in. The hiss from the doors sounded off as the bus began on its journey through the tunnels. I hate taking the bus. The people are weird and it always smells like melted plastic and feet. I breathed and fixed my scrubs.

Almost there. Another few months and I can finally afford to buy a car. Then I can relish in the fact I’d no longer have to deal with the ungodly smells, but also the annoying hard seats, and the creepy middle aged men trying to stare down the front of my scrubs. I shuddered and instead focused on what colour of car I should get and stared outside the window.

The sunrise peaked over the skyline, painting the sky a warm pink and orange colour as it reflected off the glass windows. People shuffled by in a blur, making their early morning walk to work or the nearest coffee house.

Today is the best and worst day of the week--oddly enough. It is my final day shift of the week, and that means my day off is tomorrow. Too bad it couldn’t be spent doing nothing all day long. There were some errands that needed to be finished--but if I do them in the morning I could relax the rest of the day away. If only today would be a slow and easy day...yeah right. Fat chance of that. Get ready for another shit load of screaming, emergencies and getting hit. Guess it comes with being a nurse.

The city whipped by and the skyscrapers came into view as the bus pulled to a stop. Some people got off. They shoved and pushed their way through the crowd like a school of fish going upstream. The man with the blue pressed suit and the small gut had his phone glued to his ear and the volume turned up loud enough for me to hear how he wants the divorce settled fast and quietly as he exited the bus. It’s amazing how “normal” city folks make everything seem, and they do it all in public without a second thought.

The usual old couple--I refer to them as Katharine Hepburn and Spencer Tracy--because their relationship is just so sweet. He always holds her hand when coming on the bus, and their bright smiles for each other are just too contagious to hold back. He guided his giggling wife over to the two seats across from me. The newspaper he always had folded in the front of his jacket crinkled as he sat down. He brushed some hair behind her ear and continued talking as if it were nothing. That kind of love no longer exists in this world. They are right out of an old movie.

Speaking of movies, my order should be arriving today at some point. I can’t wait to be able to watch that classic on my home screen. I tried to contain my happy wiggle, but it was just too hard not to get excited about it.

The commanding voice saying “excuse me” came from the front as the young man stepped on and paid the toll. I didn’t need to glance up over my phone to know it was him. He was the only one to say excuse me getting on and off the transit. This is the eight time he’s taken this bus...not that I’ve been keeping count. It was just observational. Usually, only regulars took this bus, so the arrival of someone new was like a new movie in a theater. It got a lot of attention the first little while but the surprise wore off eventually...for the most part. But this man commanded attention--and not just from his good looks.

The man didn’t do anything, say anything or even look at anyone, and yet people parted for him like the red sea for Moses, without a sound or judgement. His steady footsteps marched down the aisle, closer and closer towards me. Bodies stood in the way, so it was hard to tell where he was.

The seat beside me hissed from whoever sat down. I grabbed my bag and shoved it between my legs to make more room and continued to scroll through my next week’s schedule. I would have to ask Sammie to switch my Tuesday morning shift with her if I was going to make my appointment on time. Something brushed against my arm, making me freeze when my eyes darted up and locked onto the man’s face.

He flashed me a smile then looked away. He took up the space around him without guilt. His profile was so stern and strong--it’s one thing to have good looks, but to have a nice front view and profile? Now you’re just being greedy. Just have one or the other and save the rest for the rest of us. The sleeve of his green military jacket brushed along my bare arm again making my skin tingle.

“Excuse me? Ma’am?” The man tapped me on the shoulder. “This bus goes through the city to the West side right?”

I blinked from him then over to the brightly coloured map on the opposite wall and pointed it out to him. “Yeah. It says up there.”

He flicked his eyes off me and glanced at the map before turning back to give me a smirk. “Oh, guess it does. Thanks. Sorry for bothering you.”

“It’s no problem.”

It wasn’t the weirdest thing a stranger has asked me while on the bus--nor anywhere as lewd, but it was odd. Anyone with common sense knows they should look up the bus’s time and destinations before just hopping on one, and this isn’t the first time he’s taken this transit. Why does he need to know where it goes?

My fingers twiddled the elastic band around my wrist as I juggled the questions in my mind over and over again. Perhaps he always got off at an earlier stop and didn’t know if this one continued onward? But just look at the map then. What if he was making fun of me? I jumped when the elastic band snapped and made a small sound. It must have been louder than I thought because the man turned his attention onto me, his smirk still touching his lips while the unsaid words, are you okay? Bled from his amused stare making my face hot.

If he wasn’t making fun of me then, he is now. My hair draped across my face, shielding myself from his gaze. All that could be heard is the small, quiet puffs of laughter from under his breath and the small shake of his shoulders grazing mine.

_Why is it taking so long to reach my stop? Was it always this warm in here?_

No amount of screaming in my head quieted the taunting voices, and no amount of swallowing quenched my dry mouth. The zipper on my bag cut through the atmosphere like the song of a tone deaf whale. Ignoring the feeling of eyes on the side of my face, I grabbed the bottle of water and yanked it out. The cap refused to budge, even with all the force I could muster up. A victorious hmph escaped my mouth as the cap loosened, but quickly turned into a gasp when someone bumped into my arm and jerked my arm forward. It was like watching a movie in slow motion. The bottle tipped and spilled out over the man’s lap with a splat. The breath dried up in my mouth.

A startled yelp shot from the man’s mouth as he jumped to his feet and glared at the giant wet stain on the front of his pants. It was bad. Really bad. It looked like he wet himself. I grimaced and yanked myself out of my stupor and jumped to my feet.

“I am so sorry. I--I didn’t mean to...it slipped.” The words tumbled out like vomit all the while his angry face eased back down to an annoyed grimace.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it. ‘S just water.” he pulled the front of his wet shirt away from his body. The noticeable suction sound only made me feel worse.

I...I--I have napkins in my bag. Here.” I handed him the napkins. He took them without a sound and began dabbing his pants.

A giggle from the front of the bus made us both glance up. It was the older couple. They stared at us with beaming smiles on their faces and whispered to each other which resulted in them only laughing harder.

_Thanks cute old couple...I feel better now._

The automated voice above sounded out our arrival at my stop. The bus slowed to a stop and the doors hissed open. People in a rush pushed passed the man and myself with dirty, impatient looks while I fought with what to do.

I had to get off here or I’d be late for my shift, but I’d feel bad leaving him soaking wet. The force from my teeth biting into my tongue made me wince as I scooped up my bag, gave him another apologetic look and rushed to the doors. “I’m sorry!”

His eyes stared after me as the doors closed and started off on its next trip. It wasn’t anger in his stare, only amusement and a slight wince of discomfort. I was fully expecting him to tear into me...guess I got him on a good day?

_Good job. Way to start the day. Ruin some random guy’s pants, make myself look stupid and clumsy. What other trophies can I earn today?_

There was no time to think about it. I had a job to get to, and the boss won’t be happy if I waltz in late. The crowd shoved and pushed me around as I tried my hardest to get to the stairs and out of the bus station. Really wish I had some of his commanding persona right about now.

~*~

Getting puked all over my shoes was not one of the trophies I wished to earn today, but I can chalk it up as pay back for this morning. I shuddered as my shoes squished all the way towards the break room where Sammie sat eating her lunch. Her eyes flickered up over her carrot sticks and her face squished up in distaste as I grew closer.

“Gross, (F/N). What the heck is that stench? Someone vomit on you or something?”

“On my shoes, more like it...sorry.”

Her face relaxed into a lopsided grin and her shoulders began to quake with silent laughter. “Nasty. Well, it happens. Got an extra pair of shoes to wear?”

I dragged my squishy feet across the break room and over towards the lockers where my tennis shoes were and plopped down on the bench. Holding back the acidic taste in my mouth as I yanked off my shoes and peeled off my vomit stained socks, I wiped the residue off until the stench was gone and threw my destroyed socks into the trash bin. “There...good as new. That was disgusting.” I finished as I ran my hands under the sink and glared at Sammie’s snorts of laughter. “Glad someone is having a good day today...unlike me.”

Her laughter ceased and the sound of her munching on carrots took over. “What? Getting puked on doesn’t brighten your day or something’?”

“No and neither does spilling my water all over some guy on the bus...thank God he took it well, or else I don’t know what would have happened.”

Sammie perked up at the mention of the bus and smiled brightly, “Oh! Did you see cutie again today?”

I might have mentioned tall, broad, handsome...and now wet pants to Sammie on a few occasions. “Well…”

“Oh! You did! Spill. Your love life is all I got?”

My eyebrow cocked, “My love life? Mine is nonexistent...especially now that I spilt my water all down the front of his pants this morning.”

Her eyes widened and her mouth slacked. “No! You‘re kidding?” She broke off into squeals of laughter and some form of circus seal clapping. Typical Sammie… “Oh that’s rich. What did he say? Was he angry?”

“Probably on the inside, but he took it pretty well. Maybe he didn’t want to make a scene on the bus?”

She shook her head with remnants of her giggle fit still evident. “Either way, gotta admit it's progress! Pouring water on his pants today, and taking them off next week.”

“Sammie!” The heat on my neck clawed its way up and landed smack dab over my cheeks with no intent to leave. “You’re gross! Stop watching so many cheesy romance movies.”

“Can’t help it--they’re addictive.” She sighed.

She stared off into the distance with a distant smile plastered upon her lips. _I guess I couldn’t say anything. Look at me, I watch old time movies like they're a drug. Yeah, but I don’t believe in any of those romance stories they play up in those movies. It’s just not practical or real. Besides, who has time for a love life? I certainly don’t._

~*~

Yesterday’s debacle on the bus weighed heavily on my mind. The image of the man soaking yet as he stared at me from inside the bus curdled my insides into a ball. It might have been the reason why I decided to go with a low profile look today and didn’t sit in my usual seat on the bus. Lay low off to the side is the motto today. Maybe I would be lucky and not run into him again...ever.

The bus doors swished open, the oddly comforting of heated plastic and stale gum hitting my face full force. Plopping my chin into my hand I stared at the morning traffic rolling by and stifled a yawn and counted all the cars honking. What is it with city people and honking? You’re not the only one stuck in traffic, idiot. What do you want the guy in front of you to do? Ride over the next guy just so you can go to your shitty job faster?

He waltzed onto the bus as usual. His distinct masculine voice saying ‘thank you’ perked my ears as I quickly tried to find something to busy myself and blend in. I scanned over the bills I got today. I should really consider changing providers, these ones are over charging way too much--

The seat bounced as he sat down beside me without a sound while the bus continued on its merry way. Sweat dampened the papers in my hand and down my neck, even though the morning today was cooler. I let my eyes flick up and around the other closer emptier seats then discreetly over to him. His long legs brushed up against my bare leg and dress but he made no hassle to move it.

_Oh no...he’s sitting here to get back at me for yesterday._

_He’s going to yell at me--Or worse! He’s going to kill me...throw me out the window into oncoming traffic and point and tell me that’s what I get._

_..._

_I really need to cut back on those movies--_

I made the mistake of lifting my eyes and locking them with his. “Uh, hi.” I hated how squeaky my voice sounded.

“‘Morning.” He returned to staring at his phone with pursed lips and narrowed eyes.

He wore his usual outfit; a military green shirt with an emblem on the shoulder. On closer inspection I made out the words BSAA stitched neatly around the emblem. The words itched at the back of my mind. I know I heard them somewhere before.

I got so engrossed in trying to figure out where I had heard of it before I didn’t realize the man was staring directly at me. “I’m so--pardon?”

One side of his mouth curled into a lopsided grin and his eyes beamed. Leaning over, he scooped up one of the papers that fell from my lap and held it out for me. “You dropped this.”

“O-oh. Thank you.”

“No work scrubs today?”

“Excuse me?” I didn’t mean to sound so angry, I was more taken aback he spoke.

“I, um, I mean every time I, uh, I see you, you’re wearing scrubs.”

I looked down at my outfit as if remembering I was, indeed, wearing my everyday clothes. “Yeah. I’m off today. Gotta pay bills.”

“So you work at the Memorial Medical Center downtown?”

"That's right. How did you know?"

He scratched the back of his head and shrugged his shoulders. The muscles rolled and flexed under the thin fabric and pressed up against it and stretching it out. It enraptured the imagination. It was starting to get a little warm, even with the chilly morning.

"It was just a guess," his voice broke the spell. "I figured scrubs...hospital."

"O-oh. I--right. Good guess."

The bus swayed between the lanes, passing my usual stop and clunked over the bumps, irritating my butt even more on these seats. Everyone else around me seemed so enthralled in their phones or music and paid no mind to anyone else.

"I'm sorry...again...for yesterday. Your pants and all."

"It's okay. Only a dozen people said it looked like I wet myself." I cringed and was about to apologize again, but he chuckled and shook his head. The sound made my insides clench. "I'm just kidding...it was only a few people. It dried fast."

"Still...I apologize."

"Made the day interesting." His smile broadened and his eyes softened as he stared. It was something else to be trapped under that stare. His eyes are so bright and focused, like it was just the two of us.

The bus slowed to the curve and the man perked up. "Looks like it's my stop. It was nice talking with you, ma'am. Have a nice day."

His formal attitude threw me off and all I could do was stumble out, "Same to you, sir." He hid his laugh as he turned, but it was still noticeable enough to make my face hot.

As usual, he thanked the driver and ambled off the bus and down the curve. People gave him room as he walked, it seems like no matter where he goes people move for him. His head molded together among the other pedestrians until he was out of sight.

The bus lurched onward in the heavy traffic of rush hour and I settled into the seat with a heavy sigh. My face was warm to the touch. I grumbled under my breath at acting like a teenage girl and fixed my dress. My eyes snapped to the dark, brown, leather wallet on the seat the man just vacated and my stomach dropped.

The worn leather stretched across the seams and was torn slightly in the corner. It was like staring down at a bomb. Scared to move too quick to cause attention, but nervous to do nothing at all. What do I do?

After fighting with myself, I grabbed it and opened it. His face stared back at me from a driver's license. It was his. His name stood out under the bold, block letters. Piers Nivans.

_Piers. Nice name._

The ambiance in the bus sounded out like a ticking clock in my thoughts. He just got off, I can still reach him if I bolt to the next stop. My unpaid bills crinkled in my other hand. I’d still have time to pay them later, or I can try my luck and reach him tomorrow on the bus. Then I remembered tomorrow is Saturday; he probably doesn’t work tomorrow.

I shot to my feet the moment the bus pulled to the side and plowed out the doors. People stared as I ran past them, some only gave me a flick of their eyes as they texted on their phones. The breath in my lungs burned while my raw feet screamed for me to stop. This was crazy, even if I did manage to reach the bus stop, there was no way to find him. He already left. Why am I doing this? I could have left the wallet with the bus driver for them to pass on to the lost and found.

I turned the corner and darted across the road and finally made it to the last bus stop. Just like I thought, there was no sign of the man...this Piers Nivans, anywhere.

People milled about--as expected from city people. No one blinked an eye at me. The cold morning burned away and the hot sun beat down on my back, making the thin layer of sweat from my run even worse. The wallet settled heavily in my hand. It stared up at me like a forgine artifact, ready to break at any gentle touch. It was about time I gave up and turned around, but something in the crowd of people stopped me. The flash of army green froze my feet to their spot. His hurried steps wading through the crowd was like a salmon fighting the current, he stepped and turned around people in his way, uttering apologizes as he bumped into some. When our eyes met it was like something clicked. His urgency faded and he skirted his way over to me, slowing to a stop as he spotted the wallet in my hand.

“You left this on the bus. I was worried I wouldn’t find you...glad I did.”

“Thank you.” He plucked the wallet out of my hand and smiled. “You have no idea how much you saved me from a massive headache.”

“Well, it’s the least I could do after spilling my water all over you yesterday. Call us even.”

I watched as he rummaged through his wallet and pulled out some kind of ID pass with the same emblem on his shoulder adorning the corner of the card alongside a picture of himself and a bar-code. He gripped the ID pass tightly in his hands before shoving it into his shirt pocket and flicking his eyes over his shoulder impatiently. “I’m sorry, but I got to get to work. Thank you again...you’re a lifesaver.”

“It was nothing--oh.” I stared at the open hand he offered me for a moment before clasping my own in it.

His smile widened. “Nice to meet you…”

“(F/N).”

“(F/N),” I liked the way he said my name. One corner of his lips curled up. “Piers Nivans, ma’am. Thank you again.” He turned on his heels and started back off down the sidewalk, leaving me staring off at his back as he disappeared once more into the crowd of people.

My hand still tingled from his touch and my stomach wouldn’t settle even after I told myself it meant nothing but a kind gesture. I caught a glance at my watch and jerked to attention. I had to go, or I was going to run late for my other appointments today.

My feet ached from all the running around done today. I rolled my ankle and flexed my feet as I sat at the bus stop, waiting for my ride home--which telling by the traffic, looked like it was going to be running late...great. The new movie bounced in my bag as I jiggled my restless legs. I was itching to watch this one. I heard about it on youtube last night and couldn’t resist picking up a copy.

Horns from the afternoon rush hour blared around. The vehicles lined from front to back all the way down the streets on every end. One thing I hate about the city is the noise...and restless people. What’s the point of honking when everyone is backed up--

My eyes locked on to the side of one truck. The BSAA emblem painted right over the drivers side door like a beacon. And there, sitting in the driver's seat with his window rolled down and his head resting in his hand, was Piers. He tapped his fingers over the steering wheel in tune to the song playing over the radio while his gaze stared far off into thought. Lines etched his forehead as whatever he was thinking about bore down on him. That wasn't the most pressing thought I had though.

_He has a car? Why does he ride the bus if he’s got a car?_

As if sensing someone was staring at him, his eyes rolled past the windshield and out his window and over to me sitting on the bench. The whites of his eyes were visible from where I sat and his body jerked as our eyes locked. His robotic movements as he stared at his steering wheel then back over to me made me laugh, but I hid it with a smile and waved to him. His eyes still remained wide and focused on my face as he waved back, but he jerked up right when the car behind him honked irritably as it waited for him to move ahead. His car jerked forward and down the road and took the next turn just as my bus came to a stop in front of me.

_That was odd…_

**~*~**

The weekend flew past like the speed of light...like all my days off do. Monday morning I was expecting to see Piers on the bus and ask him about the other day, only to be discouraged when he didn’t show up...nor Tuesday...or Wednesday. It wasn’t until Thursday morning when I sat on the bus with a book I picked up from the library in my hands did I feel the seat beside me hiss out as someone silently sat down.

His aura oozed out of him like water. I didn’t need to gaze up to know who it was that sat down beside me. “‘Morning, Piers.”

“‘Morning.”

“Not taking your truck today?” The seat squeaked as his body went stiff.

“Uh...well, I, er...no. No, not today.”

My book closed with a soft thud. His body was stiff but his eyes remained low as I stared up at him. A complete contrast to the tall, demeaning, in charge man I often see from him. “Why?” I heard myself asking.

“I like taking the bus to work.”

“No one enjoys taking the bus.”

“I do.” His eyes flickered over to me making me freeze to the seat. The gentle murmurs of other people talking seemed to fade away as he stared at me like that. It was getting difficult to keep eye contact. I broke it first and decided to gaze out at the morning traffic.

“Oh? Why’s that? Can’t see anything fun about smelly bus transits and creepy people crammed in close proximity to each other.” I half joked.

“Not all the people are that bad.” The way he looked at me when he said that made me want to disappear. It was hot under his direct stare. Certain thoughts itched at the back of my mind, knocking on the door and demanding entrance, but I shoved them away with rational thoughts.

“I guess there are some good people on here. Like the old couple at the front, or the ones glued to their phones with headphones in their ears or…” My voice trailed off as he continued to stare at me silently, a ghost of a grin creeping its way onto his lips.

“I felt like a huge idiot when you were staring at me the other day. I didn’t expect to see you sitting there.”

“I didn’t expect to see you driving.”

The only sound between us came from the voices of the other passengers and the engine of the bus and morning traffic. “The other week,” He began and rubbed his hands over his knees, “my car had to be taken into the shop. So, I took the bus that morning. I was pissed off. I had to get up earlier and ride on this death trap.” He eyed the metal bars and rickety seats making me laugh. “But then...I saw you sitting here--alone...just staring out the window peacefully. You looked tired and worn out, but you still had the energy to smile. I thought ‘how could anyone smile while on this bus?’”

My book crinkled under my hands as I clutched it tightly. My cheeks heated up and no matter how much I wanted to sink away I wanted to hear what he had to say.

“The next day I got on the bus, and there you were again...reading your book and smiling to yourself. The next day my car was done, but I wanted to take the bus again. Slowly...everyday...I woke up wanting to see you smiling on this bus. And then it wasn’t enough. I wanted to talk to you, so I sat beside you,” me cheeks heated up at the memory. His deep laugh trickled down to my abdomen and made me squirm. “Well, that didn’t turn out like I planned. But it was kinda funny now that I think about it. I like taking the bus because I like seeing you.” His direct confession made my heart stop.

The bus pulled up to my stop and the doors creaked open. People stood up and crowded off the bus and on their way to work, and so did I. Piers grasped my wrist softly, stopping me in my steps. His eyes searching my face, his smile was nowhere to be found and neither was the confident man. He looked scared as he opened and closed his mouth. A burst of courage settled into his eyes as he spoke, “would you like to go out sometime...with me?”

The last people were ambling off the bus. I had to hurry or I was going to be late...but...I don’t care if I was. My mind was quiet, for once. I smiled down at Piers, his eyes still a mixture of fear and courage as he waited for my answer. “I’d like that. I get off at four today.”

A grin split his face, “Great.”

“Pick me up with you truck at...4:15?”

“Don’t want to take the bus?”

A bubble of laughter erupted from my mouth making Piers laugh alongside me. The morning traffic faded into the distance and the awful smell of the bus seemed to have been overtaken by the smell of Piers’ aftershave. And when I stared into his eyes I got the same feeling as when I watch my old movies.

The giggling of the old couple at the front made me raise my head. They stared at Piers and myself with a knowing look in their eyes. Piers seemed to have caught my gaze and studied the couple too, his smile only growing as he caught the old man winking and nodding his head.

_I could get used to taking the bus..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what did you think of this one shot? I did it kinda fast so sorry for the quality...I was also watching some anime before this so the writing style seemed to have been influenced by it a little I find lol!! but please comment and vote down below and I hope to be able to bring you another story soon!! life has gotten in the way so writing got pushed back a little bit, but this one shot helped a lot!


	6. stairs, elevators, and technical difficulties

The elevator jerked to a halt, sloshing some of the hot coffee onto my wrist and making me wince. "You gotta be kidding me," I groaned and pushed the buttons to no relief. _Great._

I pressed the emergency button on the panel, sending Mike's gruff voice through. "Hello?"

"Hey, Mike, it's me. The elevator is acting up again. Mind giving me a hand?"

"Oh! (F.N), you stuck in there again? I'll be right down to help you out."

"Thanks, Mike."

While I waited for him to come and get me, I clicked through my phone and shot Greg, the head of IT, a message saying I'd be late due to the elevator...again. His displeased reply ruffled my skin, but instead of snapping on him, I jammed my phone into my pocket and sipped on my coffee in hopes of washing away the feeling of wanting to strangle him. It is a sweet thought; the guy's an asswipe.

It was another fifteen minutes before the elevator began to shift and move again. The doors dinged open, causing me to lift my eyes and settle on Mike. He stood with his fingers through his belt loops and a toothpick between his teeth. "Hey, (F.N), doing okay?"

"Better now that I'm out of there. Thanks, Mike." I said and stepped out of that death trap.

"No problem. I'm gonna be here if you need me. Greg's in a mood, watch yourself."

"Isn't he always," I murmured while taking a sip of the lukewarm coffee. "He can take his mood swings and swing off this building. Not my fault, this thing keeps breaking."

"I'm on it. Don't worry. It won't happen to you...again." my eyebrow cocked, and Mike's hundred-watt smile radiated under his mustache. "Well...it won't happen a fourth time."

"Better not, or I'm taking you down with me when Greg explodes." I left him to his booming laughter and prepared myself for Greg and his temper. Yippie—"oof!" Something knocked into me, sending the remainder of my coffee down the front of my blouse. "Fu—"

"Excuse me." The deep baritone voice sounded out. "I'm sorry! Are you alright?"

_Elevators, Greg, lukewarm coffee down my chest...what next?_

"Just peachy." I pulled my blouse away from my skin; the slick suction sound mixed with the smell of coffee made me grimace.

"I'm really sorry. Do you have a change of clothes?"

"No. This shirt was—is—my only shirt." My glare froze over the man's face. His soft brown eyes held real guilt and remorse.

"if you have a minute, I can grab you a spare."

"You don't have to do that. I'm fine. I just need to get to—"

"—I insist. Please. It'll take a minute."

I was already late as it is. Greg can wait for another five minutes. "Fine. But just a minute, okay?"

It made me smile to see him nod so enthusiastically, like a kid before he bounded off down the hall.

True to his words, he came back a minute later with something clutched in his hands. His broad smile was contagious, and I couldn't fight off the one making its way onto my face. "Here you go. Sorry for the size. It's all I got.

It must have been one of his shirts. It was large— _very_ large. I studied the small BSAA emblem over the chest and gave the man a small smile. "Thank you. It's fine. Not like anyone will see me anyway."

His hand raked through his short, cropped hair and down to his neck. "In any case...I'm sorry about bumping into you and ruining your shirt."

"Not the worst thing to happen to me this morning. I should get going, thanks for the shirt."

"Anytime." He stood there, waving as I turned the corner towards the woman's bathroom. An attractive guy, wonder what he does here?

"You're late." Was the first thing Greg said to me as I entered the IT section.

"I was trapped in the elevator."

"And what the hell are you wearing? That's not part of the dress code." He said while just noticing the baggy oversize t-shirt, I haphazardly shoved into my skirt and hung off me like a blanket.

"A guy bumped into me and spilled my coffee down the front of my blouse. I'm here now, what needs to be done?"

Greg blinked and eyed the shirt with a sneer but didn't make another remark on it. Instead, he pulled up some files and shoved them into my hands and waved me off. "You're late one more time, and that's it."

"Prick..." I said to his receding back.

The files crinkled in my hands as I made my way over to my desk when I noticed Jean leaning on my desk with his arms folded and his shit-eating grin plastered on his face, it grew when he spotted my outfit and started shaking his head. "Don't you start as well." I threatened and slammed the files down on the desk and collapsed into my chair with a sigh. The day just started, and I'm already ready to go home.

"Just wanted to make sure Greg didn't rip your head off. What's with the get-up? This a new trend or something?"

"Or something. A guy bumped into me and spilled my coffee all over me. He offered me this shirt...better than a smelly coffee stained blouse."

"Is that what that is? Looks like a blanket on you." He broke off into a chuckle but quickly recovered. "So, Adam needs a hand checking over the programs for the new system updates, and Greg wants us to check the computers in section four. Some have been bugging out again."

"Great...just give me a second to wind down. A minute with Greg sucks one year off my life and gives me a headache for a week." I took in a deep breath and relaxed. "Okay, those computers in section four are important, so I'll head over there first to take a look. Do you mind heading over to see Adam for now? I'll meet up with you two when I'm done."

He answered with a nod and plucked himself off my desk and waited for me to grab my small tool kit before starting towards the doors. We split off at the entrance to section four while I continued onward.

I hate coming into this section. It feels like everyone here is sneering at me or so full of themselves. Most of the people here are the bread and butter of the BSAA North American branch, but they don't have to act so high and mighty. They're just people like the rest of us "commoners." I checked the file one more time for what computers need to be looked at and started towards those offices. I picked up my pace when the door came into sight. The name on the door read _Chris Redfield_. It didn't mean anything to me, just another prick in the section. The man's voice on the other side told me to 'come in' as soon as I knocked.

The office looked like any other office in the building, yet, there was something more to it. Pictures of family and friends and fellow team members adorned the walls and desk. Some faces I recognized as heads of the BSAA, and many I didn't recognize at all. The man at the desk, however, I did remember all too well. He smiled when our eyes met, stood from his desk and patted over towards me with a loose smile hanging from his lips while I still tried to compose myself the best I could. "Hey, good to see you again. What can I do for you?"

I wasn't a short woman, but I still needed to angle my head up to reach his eyes. "I'm here to look at your computer. They said you put in a complaint with IT yesterday."

His smile twitched up and reached his eyes as he moved to the side and gestured to his desk. "Yeah, it's been bugging out with some programs and giving me a hard time. Been slow too."

I nodded and skitted passed him and plopped down in his desk chair. "These computers are old as it is, but the added information and files on them slows them down even more. I'll see if I can get a portable drive so you can take some of the files off until we get our new program up and running later this month. That should help speed it up for the meantime. As for the bugging out, what exactly has it been doing."

He swooped around and laid a hand on the chair and the other on his desk beside me; his whole presence engulfed me, but I didn't let it show. "It gives me a hard time saving files and sending them off. The program keeps crashing on me too."

"Sounds like a memory space issue and outdated software. I'll put in a ticket for IT and get you that drive on the double. Hopefully, we can get that new program up and running faster. In the meantime though, try moving as many files as you can over to the drive, I'm going to go through some of the old programs and see if I can update them or just disable them for now. You don't need them all anyway."

He laughed under his breath, fanning over the back of my neck and making me shudder. "We could use some more funding. I'll put a word out to the heads and see if we can pull some strings for some new computers."

It was my turn to laugh, "good luck. We've been asking them for years for some new equipment, but they just brush us off and say they can't afford it."

"I'll leave this to you, but leave the funding to me. I think I can get through to them." He ended with a wink and pushed his shoulders back. "Now, what do you need me to do?"

"Nothing. This might take me a little while, so if you got any running around to do or something, now might be the time." I clicked a few buttons on the computer and typed in a few commands to bring up the windows, all the while he stood behind me, the feeling of his eyes on the back of my head made my body twitch.

"I don't have running around to do right now. I'll just do the reports the old fashioned way until you're done, if that's okay with you, that is?"

Confused, my eyes darted up. "Of course, it _is_ your office, after all."

"Just didn't want to be a bother."

My hair swayed across my face as I shook my head and resumed working on the computer. Mr. Redfield grabbed his files off the desk, a pen, and plopped himself down on the small couch along the wall and began filling them out without a sound.

"How long have you been working here?" He broke the silence between us after a few minutes."

"Four years this August."

"Do you like it?"

"I do," I said truthfully. "And what about you?"

"Do I enjoy my job?" He gazed over the files. "Yeah, I do. I can't see myself doing anything else. It has its moments, but that's a small price to pay in return to making sure everyone is safe."

The rest of my stay in his office was in silence. Only the sound of his pen scraping across the pages and me clicking the mouse and keyboard flitted between us, but it wasn't awkward. It was nice. There was just something about his aura that made me feel safe and relaxed. A foreign feeling to me, but one I want to experience again.

"You finished?" He said and stood up to join me as I gathered my things and headed to the door.

"For now. I've got to go check out the other computers in the section. I'll drop off that portable drive for you tomorrow sometime."

"Well, thanks for stopping by and taking a look at it." He extended his hand out. "I'm Chris, by the way."

"(F.N). It was nice talking to you, Chris."

"Likewise. See you tomorrow, then?"

"See you tomorrow."

I almost didn't want to say goodbye, but work called, and if I didn't get it done, then Greg would have my head on a spike by lunchtime.

The rest of yesterday went without a hitch—thank God. The portable hard drive and his T-shirt sat snuggly in my hand as I made my way down to Chris' office as I promised. A small smile touched my lips as I came to a stop outside his office door and knocked. There came no voice or any sounds from the other side. I knocked again, but with the same results. _Odd. Maybe he stepped out for a moment?_

"Are you looking for Chris?" A feminine voice sounded behind me.

Twisting around, a woman with faded out blonde hair secured in a ponytail and wearing a matching uniform Chris had on yesterday stood behind me. "Yeah, I was supposed to drop this hard drive off to him today. Do you know when he'll be back?"

Her smile was soft, but it didn't reach her eyes. "I can give it to him. He's training the guys right now."

"Are you sure? I can just stop by later if it's easier." But the woman swayed her head.

"He'll be training off and on today. His schedule is a little jumpy this week. It's no big deal. I train with him sometimes, so I can give it to him the next time I see him."

I don't have time to stop by later anyway, might as well pass the shirt and drive off to her, not like she can steal anything off the drive even if she wanted to. "Okay. Thanks."

"No problem." She eyed the shirt with a funny look.

"You mind returning that as well? He let me borrow it yesterday. Tell him it's cleaned."

"That so...Will do." She started to turn away but paused to look over her shoulder. "Sorry, I didn't catch your name?"

"It's (F.N.)."

This time, her smile crinkled her eyes; an unknown gleam danced within them as she nodded. "It was nice talking with you (F.N.). I'll let Chris know you stopped by. Have a good day."

She swayed down the hall, leaving me confused as I watched her back disappear—odd _woman._

I didn't trust the elevator, no matter how many times Mike tells me there's nothing to worry about. That's how I initially thought when Adam asked me to grab him the binders of coding and layouts for the program checks, but now with a few staircases between me and the room and my arms sore from carrying everything. I was regretting my decision.

My cry cut off with a gasp as my foot missed the steps, and an arm steadied me back. "You okay?" The voice sounded past the pile of books in my arms.

"Y-yes. Thank you." I faltered as I spotted Chris's smiling face peeking behind the stack of books. The amused twinkle in his eyes made me self conscious of my sweaty appearance. "Oh!"

"Good to see you again (F.N)." He scooped up the books with ease and flashed me a smile. "Where do these need to go?"

"They're, er, I—you don't have to do that."

He shook his head, "I don't mind. So, where to?"

"I'm working in section two today. Room three seventy."

"Lead the way." He stepped to the side to allow me to hurry by, the smell of his sweat clung to him like the white t-shirt he wore.

"What are you doing in this area? I thought you were training today?"

"I am—just on a break, how did you know I was training today?"

"I stopped by earlier to drop off that hard drive to you, but the blonde woman there said you were training."

A light dust of red stained his cheeks, and a half-smile touched his lips. "Jill. Yeah, she mentioned you stopped by earlier. She didn't say anything to you, did she? Nothing weird or...odd?"

"Odd?"

He shook his head, "Never mind. Forget, I asked. So what's with all the books? Thought with IT, everything would be...computerized now."

"For the most part, yeah, but these are just codes and checklists we go through to make sure everything is being checked and maintained for this new program."

"And taking the stairs?"

"I didn't want to chance it with the elevator...it keeps breaking." His booming laugh shook me to my core and made my stomach flip, but it faded fast as the door came into view.

"Room three seventy." he opened the door before I could protest and swaggered inside. "Where would you like these?"

"Just on the table over there. Thank you for the help again."

"(F.N.), 'bout time you got here—oh?" Adam glanced up from the computers; he was hunched over and eyed Chris up and down. "Hello?"

"HI. I'm Chris Redfield. I ran into (F.N.) on the staircase and thought I better give her a hand with these." He said as he placed the books down on the table.

"The stairs? Why were you taking the stairs?" Adam narrowed his eyes on me.

"I still don't trust the elevator."

"Mike fixed it—"

"—But still! He fixed it the last three times, but look what happened to me."

"Point taken." He said then turned his attention back onto Chris. "Thanks for the help."

"No problem." He turned to me, "it was nice to see you again, (F.N.)." I thought he was going to say more if he was; he changed his mind. He smiled and left without another word.

"Didn't know you were buddy-buddy with Chris Redfield? Thought you didn't like everyone from section four?"

"I didn't say _I_ didn't like everyone from section four; I said _they_ don't like me. And I'm not all 'buddy-buddy' with him. I was fixing his computer yesterday, and so what if I was?"

Adam eyed me over the rim of his glasses and shook his head. "You don't know who he is, do you?"

I blinked.

"Captain Chris Redfield? You know...one of the _founders_ of the BSAA...the legendary Chris Redfield? Ringing any bells in there?"

It felt like I hit a brick wall full force, " _That's_ who that is? I didn't know!" _And I was addressing him so casually. God, he probably thinks I'm some dumb idiot newbie. If I would have known..._

"Well, obviously, you didn't know. But I hear he's a pretty chill guy—nice too."

"Yeah, well, he did lend me one of his shirts yesterday so..."

It was Adam's turn to stare with wide eyes, " _He's_ the guy you bumped into yesterday?"

" _He_ bumped into _me_."

"Well, at least it was him and not one of those other pricks in that section that think they're all that."

The conversation died out and quickly returned to coding that damn program. I swear when this thing is up and running, I expect a month vacation just to destress after.

"Can you hold the elevator?" I was running late thanks to the stupid accident on the main street. Geez, you'd think people would get the idea not to talk on the phone and drive by now.

I slipped inside the elevator, fixing my hair and offering a quick thanks to the person who held the doors. "Mornin', (F.n)."

My head snapped up to Chris; his smile grew wider as our eyes met. "Oh, morning. I didn't realize it was you. How are you?" I stumbled out. Today was not my day.

"Fine, and you?"

"Same old, same old—" My heart dropped as the elevator jerked to a stop. _Definitely not my day._ "Oh, come on. Mike said he fixed this thing?" I repeatedly clicked the emergency button, waiting for Mike to answer. My impatience grew when there was no response. If Chris weren't in here, I'd probably have screamed. "Seriously?"

"Heh, guess you were right about taking the stairs. Can't get through to anyone?" Chris seemed as chill as ever—happy even. How did this guy have so much positivity in him this early in the morning?

"I'm going to try and call him," I said and dug out my phone and pressed in Mike's number.

"(F.N)? What's wrong?"

I tried keeping my voice neutral, "Guess."

Cursing flitted through the phone, followed by some clicking and fumbling. "Shit, okay...well—I'm stuck in traffic, there was an accident—"

"—Mike!" _No, no, no...this can't be happening!_

Chris eyed me funnily but remained quiet with his arms crossed.

"I'll be there as fast as I can, just hold on a bit."

"Mike..."

"I swear, I'll make it up to yea."

"You owe me a lot."

"I know, I know. I promise I'll try to hurry." The phone clicked, leaving it silent in the elevator once more.

"Bad news?" Chris finally spoke.

"Mike, the repairman, is stuck in traffic and won't be here for a little while. Great. Greg is going to lay an egg when I get to work."

"Not your fault. The elevator is broken."

"With Greg, _everything_ is my fault— _anyone's_ fault, but his. He gave me a warning last time if this happened again..." _He wouldn't fire me for this_ — _could he? Is it not my fault this death trap keeps breaking down? He'd find a way to spin this on me. Great. Just fucking great._

"He can't do anything to you for this. It's not your fault, no matter what he says." The ever-optimistic Chris to the rescue. Here to save the day, again.

"Aren't you worried about being late?"

"Can't stress the little things in life, and this is one of them. Besides," He flashed me a small smile, "I already got my cup of coffee, so I'm set." He added while lifting the steaming cup of coffee to his lips.

_Well, at least one of us is content._

"Figures. What am I saying? You're Chris Redfield, this place moves to the side for you. Of course, they wouldn't even _think_ of firing you for something as being late. The perks of being higher up." I mumbled the last part under my breath.

"What makes you say that? Sure I get some leeways, but not a lot of them. I still work under the BSAA rules and restrictions."

"But you never had to sweat the little things; being late, stating an opinion on something you don't agree with without consequences, creepy co-workers and bosses, being pushed around by the other sections."

"I think that's a little unfair to say; you hardly know me." His voice lowered with no sign of humour in it.

"I know enough of you guys in section four."

"Isn't it biased to lump everyone together?"

"Have you ever gotten in trouble for being late to work, going against orders? Or what about being pushed around by other co-workers because of your place in the office? I'm sure people in your section mistreat you just because you aren't one of them. "

He remained quiet and stared straight ahead with a far off gaze. His mouth pulled down into a tight line, making him appear older than he was and much colder. I wish I could take this whole conversation back. I always do this; I turn everything upside down without reason. I should keep my mouth shut. I'm an idiot. The elevator is stuffy and warm, and no matter how much space I put between us, it wasn't enough.

"I'm sorry. Forget what I said." My voice cracked. "Mike owes me big time for this one. He promised this wouldn't happen again," I rambled faster. "Adam is going to flip out as—"  
  


Chris jerked out of his daze and snapped his eyes on my own; the hardness to them reeled back, and the softer edges returned. "Is that how you feel around me?"

"Wh-what?"

"Do I belittle you because of your job here?"

"I—well, no."

"Is that how they treat you in my section?" His intense gaze made it hard to look at him.

"It doesn't matter. Just forget about it."

He opened his mouth to say more, but with great luck, the elevator started moving, and the doors opened. Mike stood to the side with a pinched expression and a slack mouth. "(F.N). I'm sorry. I thought this thing was fixed."

"It's fine, Mike. Have a nice day, Chris."

"Eh! (F.N)! Wait a moment." Chris yelled.

I hurried past the two men and darted down to my section without waiting to hear what he had to say. I clutched my purse tightly to my front and kept my eyes down in hopes of not directing any attention to me.

"(F.N)," the dark shadow appeared in front of me. "You're late—again. What did I say last time?" Greg stood in front of me with his hands on his hips and his eyes digging into my forehead.

"G-Greg...I'm so sorry, the elevator—"

"I'm sick of these excuses; you're half an hour late—again." A chill ran down my spine. "Grab your stuff and get out. I can't have a delay in this office."

"But, sir, I—"

"—(F.N)?" Chris turned the corner, breathing heavily and checking me over before turning his attention onto Greg. As soon as he took in the scene, his stance changed.

"Who're you? We're a little busy right now." Greg raised a lazy eyebrow at Chris.

"I want to know why you're giving her a hard time. It wasn't her fault; the elevator keeps breaking."

"Sir, this doesn't involve you. This is a problem between me and (F.N). Now, I'll ask you if you could leave."

"I'm not leaving until you let this go. It wasn't (F.N)'s fault."

"This is the fourth time she has been late with this excuse, and quite frankly, it's getting old. Now, I'll ask you one more time—"

Chris stepped towards Greg; his stature beat out Greg's, making him have to flick his eyes up to meet Chris' stare. "I'm not leaving until you let this go."

"Sir, I don't know who you think you are, but this doesn't involve you. Please leave."

By standards peeked out of their cubicles and doors at the sound of the commotion. I noticed that even Jean and Adam poked their heads out. When their eyes landed on me, panic flashed across their faces. Jean made a move to approach, but Adam held him back. I wish the floor would cave in under me and swallow me whole right now—anything, as long as I'm not _here_.

"My name is Chris Redfield, you can give them that name when you try to make a complaint, but I'll put in my HR complaint on your behaviour towards your employees myself. Unless you drop this right now."

"HR?" Greg's eyes bugged out. "Wait...did you say your name was Redfield?"

I had enough of this. "Chris, it's alright." I stepped between the men, pressing my hand across his chest to ease him away from Greg. He seemed taken aback by my touch, and willfully took a step back. "No need to lose ourselves over this."

"Indeed." Greg put in, making Chris tense under my fingers. "(F.N). Why don't you get to work on that program." His soft voice and a crooked smile curled when he turned to Chris. "Mr. Redfield—I mean _captain_ Redfield—there's no need to drag HR into this. You're right; it's not (F.N)'s fault, and instead of stressing her out and wasting more of her time, let her get back to work—all of us, hm?"

"Are you serious?" Chris's voice snapped, but I held him back. More people started to stare at me; their furtive and critical stares jabbed into the side of my face.

"Just let it go, Chirs. He's right. I should just get to work."

"You're letting this go?"

"Please?" I begged.

He caught the onlookers stares and huffed, "Fine. But if this happens again, I'm taking actions against you." He made a point to stare Greg down.

I twirled on my heels and stormed into the office without giving anyone a moment's attention.

"(F.N)? Wait!"

 _I can't believe he just did that! Not only did he make a scene, but he also name-dropped himself? For fucks sakes, I knew they were all the same_ — _I just knew it._

"(F.N)? What happened back there?" Adam caught my arm, but I yanked it away and shoved between the two guys and continued to my desk.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"(F.N)?"

_I am so sick and tired of these people. Think they're all hot shit and number one._

I would have grabbed a box and started shoving my things into it and tell Greg to shove this job up his ass. Unfortunately, I can't afford to lose this job. I'm in a great position here and get paid better than I would someplace else—and that's not including the benefits and friends I have in this office. Frustrated, I wiped away the wet streaks on my cheeks and got to work. Stuck in an elevator with Chris, humiliated, embarrassed, and now caught crying in the office...what a great start to the week.

I could still feel the eyes of a few workers on the back of my head, and Adam and Jean debating whether or not to come to my desk, but I pushed the thought away and dove into my work.

_I hate people from section four._

The rest of the workweek passed with people whispering and staring. Wherever I went, people started whispering behind my back. Word got around at the office about Chris and Greg, and now I got lumped up in it. I heard some whispers of why the fight started; some rumours made me laugh while others were just downright ridiculous. One story started that Chris and I were secretly dating, and Greg didn't like it because he loved me too. Talk about office drama...does everyone in here read drug store romance books and watch cheap romance movies or something?

Even just thinking Chris's name made me mad. Although, I'm happy he hasn't popped up anywhere this week. I don't think I would have been ready to face him just yet. I jammed my fingers over the keyboard faster and grumbled out the codes as I set them up.

He just had to rush in and try to fix everything, didn't he? And what was with his attitude? All high and mighty. "I'm Chris Redfield you can give them that name when you make a complaint." I snorted. "Make sure you say _captain_ Redfield too, from section four.So they know who they're dealing with, is what he should have just said."

"(F.N)?"

My head perked up at the surprising sound of Jean's voice beside me. Amused, he folded his arms across his chest and lifted one side of his mouth into a shit-eating grin. "Oh, didn't see you there. What's up?"

"Besides listening to you talk to yourself? I've been calling your name for a few minutes now. You have a ticket put in with a computer in section four. I got my hands full with the three laptops in the medical research center, can you be a doll and take this call for me? Or would you like me to let you finish fantasizing first?"

"Fuck you, Jean."

"You're the best!" He said and placed the papers with the list of computers needing to be looked at from section four and three into my hands before taking off.

"That guy, I swear..."

A new realized fear seeped into my bones as I made my way down to section four—the fear of running into Chris while there made me want to curl up and die. _You're a big girl, (F.N)...start acting like one. If I see him, I'll just play it cool and keep working._

That was the plan. It was a good plan until I checked the sheet with the complaint written down and the computer number beside it. I paused in my steps outside Chris's office door. "You've got to be kidding me right now. Seriously?" The door to his office flew open before I could turn around and leave, and the man in question stood there.

"Can you hear me out for a moment, please?"

I crossed my arms tightly over my chest and waited for him to continue.

"I want to explain what happened the other day. Please won't you come in?" He held the door wider.

I strongly contemplated turning on my heels and leaving, but my curiosity and his puppy dog eyes got the better of me. "Okay, fine." His smile reached his eyes. I slipped past him and immediately honed in on the mess of parts and wires around his desk. "What...what did you do to your computer?!"

"It was the only way to see you." He quickly shut the door and faced me. "I knew if I went down to your office, you'd tell me to leave, and if I called you here, you wouldn't show up."

"So destroying your computer was the next best option?" I gawked at the parts strewn about the desk and floor and tiptoed around them to see his monitor. As I thought, it was black.

"Well, I had help from your friend."

My eyes whipped past the screen and bore into his guilty face. "Jean helped you with this? Why would he do that?"

"Because I asked him too, and I explained what happened." He straightened up and cleared his throat. "Listen, (F.N), I want to apologize for what I did the other day. I know I made a scene, and I'm sorry for putting you in the middle of that, but just know I only meant to help you."

"I didn't need your help; I had everything under control."

"You were letting him push you around. Why don't you stand up for yourself? You have the right to defend yourself. That Greg guy is an ass—and I don't care what you say—I'm putting a complaint in with HR about his attitude towards his staff...and you."

"Why do you care so much about what happens to me? You hardly know me?"

His stare flickered to the ground while his hand combed through his hair. "Well, you know, it's not right to treat others like that. Someone should stand up and put their foot down and say enough. Besides, if you're gone, who else is going to fix my computer?"

The computer sat in its sad state, looking as pathetic as I felt for snapping at Chris. I was blaming him for my lack of self-confidence and anger towards Greg. I smiled up at him. "I don't think _anyone_ could fix this. What did you do to it? Take a baseball bat to the poor thing?"

"I couldn't find one."

Sighing, I dropped to my knees and picked through the pieces. "Well, I better get started on it. You got some errands to run or something?"

"Nope." he said, popping the 'p' as he knelt beside me and placed a hand on my thigh. "I'm sorry for how I acted, and I'm sorry you feel unwanted around here, just know I know a few people in this section that respect your work."

I gave his hand a gentle squeeze and smiled. "Thank you. And I'm sorry for what I said in the elevator and about not needing your help. I appreciate all the help you've been to me."

"My pleasure. So, want me to help you fix the computer?"

"No. You can sit on the couch and don't touch anything."

His appalled, slacked jawed expression made me laugh. "You said you appreciate all the help I gave you."

"I did, but you made my day harder by ripping apart your desk computer. Now it'll take me hours to fix it."

"Well, I don't mind that at all." His toothy smile twisted my stomach into tight knots and made my face hot. "So, where does this piece go?" He lifted a piece of something brown and thin.

"That's a piece of wood...why is that on the floor?"

"I might...have broken a picture frame by accident while taking the computer apart."

"You're unbelievable."

"Why, thank you. So are you."

"That's not what I meant."

"It's what _I_ meant." A light red dusted his cheeks as his boyish smile curled the corner of his lips. We said nothing as he leaned in closer, brushing his shoulder across mine and started picking up the pieces around us while I tried my hardest to push down the smile wanting to break out across my mouth. "You just going to sit there and stare at me, or are you going to give me a hand?"

I couldn't stop the smile as I nudged him and started picking up the pieces. Section four might have gotten a little bit more bearable.


	7. The language of flowers (part 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! I'm back, as promised! and I'm here to present the long-awaited part two of this story! For those of you who might not be aware, I re-edited the first part of this story, nothing too major changed, just revised it a little and changed things around. Well, I hope you all enjoy this story as much as I enjoyed writing it.
> 
> Don't be afraid to point out any spelling or grammar errors, I welcome it so I can change it right away!
> 
> with that done, enjoy this chapter and don't forget to like and comment below! your feedback helps me a lot!

_Beautiful shoes will take you to beautiful places._

_~~~~~~~~~~~~_

The park was alive with the bright colours of autumn, and the brisk October air licked at my cheeks. The trail bent and turned and took me to the center of the park. The fallen leaves swirled at my feet as I pressed on and past the tourist admiring the leaves.

It's been over a month since I received the flowers from Chris and only a few hours since he contacted me with some bad news. Our correspondence with each other has been brisk and relatively new, but I enjoyed each of our conversations00no matter how brief they are. But this particular message sank in my chest like a dead weight.

_I know I said I would be back home this week, but it looks like that won't be happening for a while now. I'm sorry (F.N.). It looks like we'll have to reschedule our get-together for a later date._

_Chris._

I read back the message in my mind, trying to ward off the disappointment in my chest.

_It wasn't his fault...he has responsibilities, and he can't just throw those away on a whim to meet me._

The gravel under my feet crunched as I neared the park bench; it was the only thing I could think of that would make me happy right now. The wood grain felt rough under my fingers as I trailed them over the seat and settled myself down on it with a sigh. My shoulders dropped, and my mood turned bleak again.

It's hard to believe how time flies; it seems like so long ago that it was hard to believe it was just under two months ago since our first meeting.

The tourist and locals' happy faces as they took photos of the leaves and park bit into my heart. Every couple I saw was like a mocking joke pointed at me.

I had everything all planned out; we could have strolled through the park and go check out the fall festival happening down the street and enjoy some fresh foods. Now I'd have to wait for...who knows how long now.

My breath puffed out as I lowered my gaze to my hands and played with the hem of my sweater. I didn't even jerk when dogs trotted past me on their leashes or bat an eye when they barked. I should just go home--

"Wha--" The bouquet of tulips appeared in front of my face as if from nowhere. I stared past the hand that held them and trailed along the arm behind me and stopped when I met Chris' smiling eyes. "--The...holy shit!" The words tumbled out. I sprang to my feet and twirled around to face him fully.

His booming laughter echoed through the park and right down to the tips of my toes. Warming me as it went. "Didn't mean to startle you."

"What're--I thought...the message...you weren't…"

With every failed attempt to speak a sentence, Chris' grin cracked higher on his lips and reached his eyes. Shaking his head, he cleared his throat, cutting off my ramble. "I lied. I wanted to surprise you. Surprise!"

"Well, I'm surprised, alright." My laughter broke out of my throat. "When did you get back?"

"Late last night." He stepped from behind the bench, stopping in front of me and nodded to the bouquet in his hands.

"Oh!" I plucked them from his hands and lifted them to my nose and took in a deep breath of their sweet scent. "They're beautiful. Thank you." The bright red of their petals matched the leaves above our heads, and their sweet aroma calmed my racing heart.

I loved tulips. Their scent, flower shape and colours always brought a smile to my life.

Chris' raised eyebrows were paired with a bemused smile as he watched me quietly inspect every petal and flower. "I hope you like them."

"I do. Thank you. How did you know I loved tulips? Or was it a guess?"

"Lucky guess." He smoothed down his hair and straightened back up and nodded towards the bouquet. "What do these mean? I didn't have time to check before getting them."

It was difficult not to stare as his tongue swept out across his lips. A sudden flush of warmth spread through my body. "They...tulips, are a romantic flower and represent delicacy. With the added deep red colouring, they mean a declaration of deep love."

His grin twitched higher. "Oh, well, now I know." A tint of red dusted along his cheeks, and he nodded his head. "Noted."

His robotic movements made me giggle, I hid it behind my hand and brushed it off as a cough, but his awkward smile gave me away. "Thank you for the other flowers you gave me. They were lovely too."

"Thanks. I thoughts so too." He raked a hand through his tousled hair and kept breaking eye contact with me as he spoke. "Do you have any plans for the day?"

My hair swayed in tune with my head as I tried to suppress a jolt of excitement in my chest. "No. Would you like to do something? But you're probably still tired from last night. We could wait--"

"No," he cut in. and blinked back before starting over in a softer tone. "I mean...I don't need lots of sleep--I'm used to it--because of work! I mean, my sleep schedule is all over the place, and I don't need lots of sleep."

He tripped and stuttered over his words; it was cute. His face grew flush, and he shoved his hands into his jean pockets and stared off over my shoulder. My smile pressed against my eyes. "Oh? Sure. What did you want to do? They have a Fall festival going on downtown. Did you maybe want to check it out?"

"I got something in mind," I followed his gaze down to my shoes and felt my brow curling up in confusion. "You got any hiking shoes, or do you think you'll be OK with your runners?"

I rolled my feet, staring at my shoes and nodding my head before lifting my eyes back up to Chris. "These will be fine...why?" My curiosity was spiking fast.

"You'll see," was all he said with a grin. He took my hand in his and gently led me through the park. "C'mon. My truck's over here."

"Where we going?" I tried to wave off the tingle in my hand as he squeezed it tighter and turned around to give me a bright smile.

"You'll see!"

He refused to answer my question no matter how many times I asked. A bubble of laughter escaped my mouth as he swung his head side to side and kept saying, "You'll see!"

Chris was suspiciously quiet during the ride. I caught his furtive glances a couple of times already; each time I did, he'd feign glancing at something else and busy his fingers on the radio. I couldn't quite place him right now; his words say one thing, but his behaviour says another. It's hard to tell what he is thinking.

A smile crept up my lips. Turning to the window, I watched as the city whipped by in a blur. The silence was becoming too much for me. Wiggling in my seat, I seized his stare. "How was work? You were gone for nearly two months."

He swayed his head gently and took a deep breath in and let it out before answering. "Rough, but that's not new. The same old crud keeps happening," he flicked a glance my way with a small smile. "But we took care of it. How have you been? Haven't had any more run-ins with any puppies, have you?"

I snorted, "Oh, you know me; gotta fight them off all day, or else they'll lick me to death."

He bit down on his smile and swallowed his laughter, but it came out as an odd cough grunt. "Well, I'll see if I can change that."

My curiosity itched at the back of my mind. The traffic grew thinner and thinner, the further we travelled. The houses became further apart from the last, and the highways shrank down to a one-way street. "You're not kidnapping me, are you?" I jokingly asked.

Chris' eyes widened, and the whites of his eyes glistened back at me. I couldn't hold back a snort of laughter at the look on his face.

"I'm kidding! I'm kidding. But really, where are we going?"

"You'll see."

I squinted back at him, trying to figure him out. "You keep saying that, I suspect you don't know where we're going and just making this up as you go along."

The only answer he gave was a roll of his eyes and cocked up a single brow, causing me to laugh again.

As soon as he threw the blinker on and turned down the street, I knew where he was taking us. My cheeks hurt from smiling as I stared at the thick trees passing by and looked out for the big blue sign that read _National Park_.

"We're here," Chris said and pulled the truck up the gravel path and cut the engine and turned to me with a secretive smile.

"We're going hiking?" I asked.

"Surprise!"

I couldn't hold back a snort of laughter.

Chris' grin fell, and his eyes clicked between me and the trail. His brows scrunched up. "We could do something else if--"

"No! No." I cleared my throat and wiped away a stray tear. "I'm just surprised you remembered I like hiking is all."

The red tint to his cheeks spread down his neck as he quickly looked away and undid his seatbelt, and cracked open the truck door. "Yeah? Well, I thought the fresh air and getting away from the city would do us some good. Ready to go?"

With a nod, I climbed out of the truck. The sounds of nature hit me in the face as soon as I closed the door. The trees up here were further along with their changing colours; the bright golds shone next to the burnt oranges and deep reds, mixing with the green pine trees and the blue lake down below. Blackbirds cawed overhead, and some chickadees chirped somewhere close by. The fresh air filled my lungs as I stretched from the journey and enjoyed the sun on my face. I love the outdoors.

"Let's go." Chris cut in and rounded the truck's front to meet me and fixed the strap on his backpack over one of his shoulders.

He caught me staring at the backpack. I tilted my head in question, but the only response I got from him was a shake of his head and a low chuckle that travelled to the base of my stomach. He started for the trails, leaving me staring at his back as he went.

"What's so funny?" I asked and trotted over to catch up to him.

"Nothing. Just enjoying the view." He cocked his head over his shoulder and flashed me a smirk that stopped me dead in my tracks. "Don't fall behind (F.N.)."

The familiar dirt trail crunched under my feet as we started to climb up the path. The ache in my legs screamed for me to stop, but we were nearing the top. The smell of pine trees and fallen leaves filled my nose, and a light cold breeze skimmed across my flushed face. I couldn't help but flicker my attention to the sharp drop off beside me and inched myself closer to the inside of the trail, brushing Chris' shoulder in the process.

"What a beautiful day," I said just as the mountains peeked through the tree branches.

"No, kidding. How you holdin' up? Need a break?"

"Maybe just a minute to catch my breath."

At the top of the hill, the trail split off into two directions; one kept along the mountain's side, weaving with the mountains and the rocky cliffs, while the other one led into the forest. The latter one I knew better as I took it often to search for flowers and mushrooms.

I eased myself down on a small boulder and took in a long breath and rolled my ankles. My running shoes are nice and light, but I could really do with some more ankle support. Next time, we can plan it better.

I smiled to myself.

_Next time._

Chris eased over and offered me a water bottle from his backpack. "Here, have some."

Gratefully, I took the water and pressed it to my lips, enjoying how the coldness eased the dryness in my throat and cooled me off. "Thanks. Do you always have a backpack full of gear ready to go inside your truck?"

Chris' hand froze inside the backpack, and his shoulders stiffened as he cleared his throat. "Not exactly...no."

"Oh, so you planned it?"

He dug around his back roughly and kept his gaze occupied on the task at hand. It's fun teasing him. It was fun teasing him. Seeing the tips of his ears light up red and his jerky movement. A spout of laughter trickled out of my mouth, making the red on his cheeks darken. He rolled his eyes, shook his head and handed me a sandwich without lifting his eyes to me. "I might have planned this ahead of time--but I had secret motives."

"Secret motives?" I crossed my ankles and took the sandwich from him.

The sound of the zipper from Chris' backpack reached my ears. He stood up and plopped himself right next to me and folded his arms across his chest. My eyes drifted down to his biceps and how his shirt stretched over them. The fabric pulled taut as his muscles rolled under the thin material. "You told me you hike around searching for flowers and to forage. I wanted to try it."

I wasn't expecting him to say that. "You want me to show you how to forage?"

Patrick never took an interest in my hobbies; he always called them odd and childish. The thought of his words brought on a wave of anger, but it quickly subsided when I felt Chris' warmth spread over my side as he leaned closer and nodded his head. "If you don't want to--that's fine."

"It's not that; it's just...usually people find it a weird hobby is all." The sandwich wrapper crinkled in my hands as I gripped it tighter, waiting for his reply.

"It's different, but a good different--and interesting. I never met anyone that foraged before or made pressed flowers." His smile eased the tension in my shoulders and neck.

"You think it's that interesting?" I asked, a little hopeful.

He simply smiled and nodded his head.

With a boost of confidence, I sat straighter and met his stare. "OK. I guess I can show you some things. I usually take that trail over there," I said, pointing to the forest trail up ahead.

Chris followed my finger and shrugged. "Sounds like a plan."

This trail was used a lot less than the main path, but that was one reason I liked it so much. Only seasoned hikers would use this trail, so there is less likelihood that anyone came down here and already foraged the right areas. Careful of where I was stepping, I tiptoed over a fallen log and kept an eye out for mushrooms. The moss and uneven ground made it difficult to maneuver through the area, but I kept going until Chris' voice cut the silence between us.

"So, what kind of job do you have? Something with flowers?" I caught his smirk when I cocked a glance over my shoulder and returned the sentiment.

"Yep. I graduated with a botany degree and worked as a biologist for about five years, but it didn't interest me enough." I bent down to check behind some of the trees, but came back up disappointed and kept going. "I ended up quitting and started working in greenhouses and on farms. I really enjoyed dealing with the flowers and plants, so I went back to school and took a course on floriculturists. Now I'm in the middle of opening up my own greenhouse and selling flowers and plants. I might branch out from there eventually.

A low whistle came from behind me. "You've bounced around a lot. Sounds interesting. So you want to start your own business then?"

My foot slipped on the uneven ground, but Chris shot out and grabbed my elbow and helped me back up before I could hit the ground. With a quick thanks, we continued down the path.

"Yeah. But I'll start small first, maybe just as a local florist with a greenhouse and branch off to bigger companies and maybe even do landscaping." I paused at the base of one tree and spotted some mushrooms. Stooping down to inspect them, I nodded my head. "But what about you? I know you work at the BSAA, but what else do you do?"

I glanced up as Chris knelt beside me, his eyes glued to the mushrooms at our feet. "Well, there isn't really anything interesting to say."

"That can't be true. I told you some of my _interesting_ hobbies."

He rolled his eyes and tapped one of the mushrooms' caps before following my lead and standing up. "Sorry to disappoint, but I'm not that interesting. My work takes up most of my time, but I do enjoy hiking and fishing whenever I get the opportunity...you know the usual stuff."

"What exactly do you do at your work?" That was one thing I wondered ever since he first mentioned the BSAA. I know it's like a military thing, but instead of humans, they deal with monsters, and God only knows what.

Pain wrinkled the corner of his eyes, and the faint bags under them seemed to darken in an instant. I regret asking him. "A lot. It can be desk work or fieldwork...depending on what they need me to do."

He obviously didn't like discussing his work, so I tried desperately to search the area around me to find some--

"Aha!" I cried out triumphantly as I spotted some mushrooms under a tree and on the other side of a small drop off.

My cry of happiness turned to alarm. My foot slipped over the loose rocks on the ledge, sending my ankle between two stones and throwing me forward. Just before I toppled over, a hand snatched my arm and yanked me back. My foot was released between the rocks with a pop and a sharp electric pain. I tumbled backwards with a cry and landed against something warm.

"Are you OK?" Chris' breath fanned the top of my head as he eased me to the ground.

My ankle throbbed and burned as if someone poured hot acid over it. It seemed to cause more pain with every erratic heartbeat, and no matter how I set my foot, the pain would not ease. Hot blood dribbled from the scrapes and onto my socks, staining them a deep red. "Ah...my ankle...it got caught in the rocks."

Chris shifted behind me and settled down my ankle. Through my cracked eyes, he probed around the area and flexed my foot, causing me to scream. Jerking back, he winced. "Sorry. It looks like you sprained it pretty bad, but I don't think anything is broken, but you shouldn't take any chances."

"Shoot. Well, how are we supposed to get back to the truck? I don't think I can stand on it." Gently, I examined the bloody mess, eyeing how swollen my ankle was already.

"You shouldn't walk on it as is; you could do more damage that way."

"Perhaps I can find a walking stick and use it as a support--"

The thump of Chris' backpack landing on the ground beside me made me jump. The seriousness to his eyes as he stared at the trail then back down to my ankle before landing on me made me freeze. "Can you put the backpack on?" He asked as he helped me put it on.

"Uh-m...sure? What are you--"

In a swift movement, he stood me up, got in front of me, hiked me onto his back as if I was as light as his backpack and secured my arms around his neck and straightened to his full height. His back muscles rolled under my front as he fixed my position and straightened himself back up. The closeness of our bodies made me hold my breath, and the way his hands trailed over my butt and rested securely under my thighs made me squirm. I didn't want to move too much, but it was hard not to enjoy his warmth and the power of his strength. Carefully, I moved my hands and worked them into a comfortable position, enjoying the feel of his taut muscles under my fingertips; It left a warm pool in my abdomen and my face flushed.

"You don't have to do this--I'm too heavy to carry back to the truck."

I held tight as he started stepping over a log and continued down the narrow trail. "I've trained with my teammates for situations like this, and trust me; those guys are _a lot_ heavier. Just relax, I got everything under control."

It reassured me, but I still felt terrible that he has to carry me all the way down the mountain now.

_Way to ruin your first date, genius._

"I'm so sorry. I should have looked where I was stepping first."

"It could have happened to anyone."

"I'm very clumsy," I whispered under my breath.

"You're not clumsy," he said without missing a beat.

A smile cracked the corner of my lips. "You don't have to say that. I'm used to being called clumsy. But I really am sorry for having to cut our outing short."

"Don't worry, next time we'll get you proper footwear and _then_ you can show me how to forage for mushrooms. How is the pain? Am I bouncing around too much?"

Even after ruining our outing and him offering to carry me, he's still nice enough to ask me that. What a sweetheart. And those two little words lifted my spirits back up, _next time. "_ No, I'm fine. The pain is still there, but not as bad since I'm not putting weight on it."

The trail opened up, and we were back at the fork in the road on the mountainside. He kept up the pace down the mountain--thank God it was all downhill, I'd feel awful for making him climb uphill with my fatass on his back.

Speaking of his back, I knew he was toned, but being this close; I never knew just _how_ toned he was. I could feel all his muscles, all perfectly sculpted, flexing under my front.

"How did you get those scars on your forearm?"

The warmth in my abdomen snuffed out as he spoke those words. Stealthily, I yanked my sleeve back over my exposed forearm and shifted on his back. "O-oh...those? I got those when I was little."

"Looks painful. How did it happen?"

Even thinking about those ugly scars made my muscles contract and my blood chill. They weren't something I was proud to have; they were a constant reminder of that awful day. I hated looking at them; if I could take an eraser and wipe them off, I would do it in a heartbeat. Now Chris has seen them.

"...Dog attack. My uncle's dog attacked me."

He shifted his head so I could catch his gaze, a knowing look passed over his brown eyes, a kind of gentleness softened my nerves. "That's awful. How did it happen?"

I clung to his neck, feeling my heart rate spike and my stomach churn. I squeezed my eyes closed and controlled my breathing. "It happened really fast. My uncle... he's...different. He hunts and traps--a farm kind of guy. He treated his dogs like farm equipment too, so I can't blame them for acting the way they did. But, he had one big dog--nasty thing--black too. I don't even know what breed it was; all I know was it was _huge_ , and it hated everyone. I made the mistake of getting in its reaching distance. All I remember is it sprang at me so fast and grabbed my arm and yanked me around. My parents heard me screaming, but I don't remember them being there, I just remember blood...and the pain."

My heart hammered in my ears; it beat in sync with the sound of the dog barking in my nightmares. Sweat pooled down my spine even with the cold breeze, and I wanted to be anywhere but here. When I managed to find my voice, it was quiet and dry.

"It took a lot of stitches to fix it, the doctor said I might even get nerve damage--luckily I didn't, but I was left with these _ugly_ scars," my voice cracked. "My uncle had to put the dog down, he never said anything, but I know he hated me for it."

The silence stretched between us. My body trembled as I fought off the prick of tears in my eyes. A few minutes later, when he finally answered in a low voice, so soft, I had to strain myself to hear him.

"They aren't ugly."

Those three little words rested over me like a calm hand. My breath stilled, and my eyes fixed to the side of his head.

"See those scars on my shoulder?" He finally continued. "I got those from work. My partner and I were ambushed. I tried to protect her, but it wasn't enough...my strength wasn't enough." His shoulders tensed as I dragged the fabric away and examined the scars. Just like mine, they were rough and jagged. "I look at those scars every day to remind myself of where I came from and how I got here. They may be ugly, but I need them...so I won't let that mistake happen _ever_ again."

It took me a few times to find my voice. "Whatever happened Chris, it wasn't your fault--"

"It is!" I reeled back from the volume of his voice. There wasn't anger in it, but I could hear how it cracked at the end. "She's gone because I wasn't strong enough."

I squeezed his shoulders and lowered my face to his ear. "You can't blame yourself for something that is out of your control, Chris. I know even though I wasn't there, that you did everything you could.

When the truck came into view, I had a whole new outlook on Chris. Only with one conversation, and I felt like I've known him for years. What else is he hiding underneath his smile?

Gently, he placed me down, giving me a hand as I hobbled to the truck door and leaned against it while he got his keys out. His eyes remained lowered as he searched through his pockets, but I tried desperately to meet his stare.

"Some first date, huh?"

Slowly, he raised his eyes to mine. The hurt behind them faded away and was instead replaced with a hollow smile. "No, kidding."

The truck's cold metal seeped through the back of my sweater and eased the rising heat inside me. Unable to meet his stare any longer, I flicked them down to my ankle. "This one takes the cake for most unusual first dates, haha."

"Hopefully, it doesn't scar."

I raised my gaze, my smile reaching my eyes when I noticed he was already staring. "I don't mind if it does."

A grin crawled its way onto his lips, throwing me off as I flicked my gaze down to his mouth. The tension on his face eased, and his eyebrows lowered as he leaned in closer, gently propping his hands on either side of my head. He closed the distance and swooped down to grab my lips in his for a light peck, and deepened in further until a moan escaped my mouth. My face heated up, but I didn't care. His hands found their way to my waist, and mine found their way up to his shoulders. The tips of my fingers danced across his scars, enjoying the feel of the taut muscles and jagged ridges they left behind. For once in my life, I prayed that these scars would remain so I could look back on them every day and remember this moment. 


End file.
